


Acceptance

by RitaMordio



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M, Nessian - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-05
Updated: 2016-11-16
Packaged: 2018-07-21 16:35:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 105,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7395154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RitaMordio/pseuds/RitaMordio
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(ACOMAF spoilers!) Nesta Archeron never wanted to be a Fae. Cassian never dreamed of life without the use of his wings. Together, as they make arrangements to extract Feyre from the Spring Court, they discover that acceptance is easier found together than apart. Nessian (Nesta x Cassian). Set a month after the events of ACOMAF. Multi-Chapter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: All criticism is welcome if honest. I hope you enjoy!

"Nesta...may I ask you a question?"

Nesta looked up from her breakfast plate at her younger sister, who was gazing upon the Velarian scenery through the open window of their upstairs bedroom in Rhysand's townhouse. The two sisters had largely been left to their own devices in the month since the... _incident_ in Hybern, allowed time to 'adjust' to their new bodies. 'Adjusting,' of course, was that bastard Rhysand's language, as if she could just bounce back from what was, as far as she was concerned, her own death.

Elain had accepted the change quickly enough, but she just...couldn't. Elain might be able to forgive these Fae for the abuses they committed in kidnapping the two of them, but she was always a special person in that regard. She could be insulted to her face, and she would find a way to compliment them in return. And while it had taken a few weeks, Elain was already graceful in her new body, fluid in her movements and smooth with her speech. Meanwhile, Nesta still hated every limb, every joint, every cell of this joke of a gift that had been forced upon her by that Hybernian asshole. She clenched her fist. If only she cou…

"Nesta?"

Nesta looked back up to see Elain was now staring at her and sighed. Elain's kindness was balanced by her complete inability to hide her emotions, and Nesta could tell Elain was worried about upsetting her, a worry that she supposed wasn't too out of place considering how quickly her mind rushed to the negatives of their situation.

"Yes?"

"I've been thinking a lot since...everything that happened to us in Hybern. What do you think the mating bond...feels like? Is it just intensified love? Is it like a familial sense of belonging? I wonder if you feel what they feel? Think what they think?" Elain's attention shifted back towards their view of Velaris.

Nesta stilled. Of the topics she had expected Elain to broach this morning, this wasn't even in the top ten. Elain knew how she felt about anything Fae-related. She tried to answer in as dull a tone as possible. "I have no idea, Elain. Why don't you ask Rhysand yourself? You seem to spend enough time with him as is."

And indeed she did. Ever since Elain was able to walk without stumbling in her new body, she had visited with Rhysand quite often. And not just Rhysand, but Morrigan and Azriel and the rest of her sister's Court. Even that bastard Cassian.

"I did. But he said it was something so indescribable that I would have to experience it to understand it. I wanted to know what you think."

"What I think is that anyone stupid enough to enter into any kind of Fae ritual deserves what they get. If Feyre wants to spend her whole life controlled by an emotional fog telling her who to love and how to love them, she can do so. It's not my business."

"Nesta, come on. You don't believe that." Elain gave Nesta a sympathetic, but firm look. "Besides, Rhysand says that the mating bond must be freely chosen by both mates, or it doesn't click into place."

"Good. Then you can tell that Spring Court asshole to shove it." Nesta put her plate down and got up, trying not to let her irritation at this conversation show to her sister. "Anyway, I'm going to go for a walk; I want to see if Azriel has any new information on Feyre's situation. The sooner she's back, the sooner we'll be able to reverse this Fae plague."

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Elain opened her mouth to respond, but Nesta was on her feet and out of the room before she could even make a sound. She tilted her head to the window and gave a small, satisfied smile.

"Told you I could get her out of the house."

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Nesta grumbled as she stepped out onto the streets of Velaris, not looking forward to the day ahead. She decided to set off towards the House of Wind, feeling obligated to visit Azriel now in order to be able to answer evening questions from her sister. If it were up to her, she would be spending every day indoors until she heard news from Feyre – the less interaction she had with these Fae, the better.

Even now, she was taking back alleys to avoid running into other people. But it seemed the harder she tried to shut these people out, the harder they pushed on her walls. She made accidental eye contact with a passing mother and her child as she rounded a corner, both of whom waved in her direction in recognition. She forced a smile, grimacing once they turned their heads. Hating these Fae was so much easier when they acted like Ianthe, like...Fae. Seeing the...normality, the _humanness_ of the Velarian citizens' lives was disconcerting. They should hate her; they were Fae and she was…

She was Fae. She stopped her walk and sat down against a building. She was Fae. The thought invaded her head like a curse, enveloping her. She had become that which she hated, that which she spent every moment in her previous life trying to avoid. And there was nothing she could do for herself, for her sister. Nothing. She knew the others put up with her talk of reversing the process as a nicety, but she hadn't been ready to accept the finality of the transformation yet. Not after the first week as her sister had, not after the full month, maybe not ever. And she had eternity to live with it.

Deep down, she knew that being Fae did not mean hating humans. She knew that, but...whenever she thought of herself as Fae, she visualized Elain and herself being grabbed in the dead of night, _forced_ into this life. And she couldn't live with that image.

"Nesta? Are you okay?"

Nesta snapped her head up and saw Morrigan looking down on her, concerned. She stood up quickly and steeled her face. "I'm fine. I just thought I would get some air."

Morrigan studied her for a short yet unnerving amount of time, then motioned to the building she had just exited. "If you're here to visit him, he's not doing great. He could use the company." Her look held a silent plea Nesta did not understand, until…

Until she realized she was standing outside Cassian's house. She had walked here absentmindedly, and Morrigan thought... Nesta kept her face rigid as she quickly retorted. "Only for a short time. I just figured I'd stop by on my way to talk to Azriel about what information he's gathered from the Spring Court."

Morrigan blinked and raised an eyebrow in amusement. "Azriel? The House of Winds is in the other direction from the townhouse, across town from here." Nesta's face reddened despite herself. Had she really gone that far off course...? "But I suppose you wouldn't know that with how little you've seen the city. I can take you there afterward if you would like."

"That's not necessary," Nesta blurted, eliciting a smirk from Morrigan. "I meant that it was early enough that I planned on doing both. We'll probably need Cassian's help extracting my sister from the Spring Court, and I wanted to talk to him before talking to Azriel."

"Of course." Morrigan moved to step past Nesta, but stopped alongside her instead and dropped her voice to a whisper. "But if you were to have some... _alternative_ motive in being here–" Morrigan turned her head slightly to lock eyes with Nesta, who had managed to re-harden her expression. "–then I would please ask that you lengthen your visit. He's in bad shape. He hasn't left his apartment the entire month we've been back." She paused for a moment, as if to let the impact of her news settle. "And besides, he's Fae. Heightened sense of smell, etc. He already knows you're here, so I wouldn't suggest leaving without saying hello." Nesta straightened.

"Anyways, see you at dinner!" Morrigan practically shouted as she winked and turned to walk off with a short, lazy wave.

Nesta snorted in response and watched Morrigan walk off. The Night Court was insufferable. Especially... She turned to look at Cassian's house. She had come here once before, immediately after Hybern, to see how bad his injuries were. He had cursed so badly at her being present that she had stayed away in the month since. Well, that was her excuse, anyway. She wanted to hate him for breaking his promise to her and her sister, but seeing his wings in that condition...had broken something inside of her. And she knew that he would have done the same thing for her, had it been her instead of Azriel he needed to shield.

Nesta groaned. There was no point stalling any further. If Morrigan was right that he could sense her, it was going to look badly if she waited any longer entering his residence. She turned and strode through the still-open front door of his house into his living room, stopping dead in her tracks. His back was to her, his wings being attended by healers on either side. His wings... They were still tattered; in some cases, there were bones completely unconnected by tissue and struggling to stay in place at their spinal roots. She attempted to stifle her gasp, but she could not catch herself in time. He spun around in place, shock on his face.

"What are you doing here?" he grumbled in a low, territorial voice.

"Stop moving, Cassian. We can't help you if you keep fidgeting." The plea came from one of the doctors who had successfully ducked for cover as Cassian swung his still-fully-extended wings.

"Shut up. I don't want her here. Get her out of here." Nesta opened her mouth to retort, but she was halted by the look in his eyes. There was...shame. Guilt. Self-hatred. She knew that look well; it was a look she used to give herself every night when she had gone to bed full because of Feyre's hunting. Every night of life that she had been given by her sister, no thanks to her waste of an existence, no thanks to her indiscriminate purchases. But he…

"Pity yourself if you want. But don't expect me to leave you alone to do so." She walked towards him, studying his wounds closer. It definitely looked as if his wounds had scarred, but it was unsettling to see the tissue hadn't healed at all. She quieted and softened her voice. "What's going to happen?" She moved to touch one of his wings and he flinched back.

"They said...if my condition doesn't improve within the next few days, they'll have to amputate them or risk the infection spreading."

"Spreading...?" He still wouldn't make eye contact with her, so she stepped closer to him, inspecting his wings for inflammation. "They're still infected?"

Cassian simply nodded, then gestured towards some half-empty jars in the corner she hadn't noticed when the healers had been tending to him. Attendants who, she acutely noticed, were now absent from the room. "Salves we obtained long ago from the Dawn Court. They remove the infection well, but...something is preventing my body from healing, and the infection just finds its way back. We are wasting precious medicine – if it were anyone but me, the decision to amputate would have already been made. But Rhysand is buying me time to process and say goodbye to them."

She darted underneath him to catch his eyes before he could look away again and her eyes widened. She had wanted to tell him so many things. He needed to grow up. He needed to stop being such an idiot. His complaining wasn't helping anything. He wasn't solving anything by giving up. But when she saw the pain in his eyes...something else entirely escaped her lips. "Can I help...?" He looked down at her, finally meeting her eyes, studying her before he spoke.

"Well, those healers were supposed to be applying the salve to my wings, but as you can see, they have decided to desert their positions. Do you mind?" His face twisted into a smirk. "Since you've already decided touching me isn't a problem and all." He winked at her, and her temperature increased as she realized how she had been standing practically chest-to-chest against him in order to catch his gaze. She snorted at him and stomped off to the jars, thankful he couldn't see her face. She opened one and recoiled.

"Cauldron, what in the world is in these?" It smelled like a mixture of gasoline and baby food; the rancidity was overwhelming her Fae senses.

Cassian laughed. "I said they healed infections – I didn't say they were pleasant to the nose. I actually haven't been able to smell anything for weeks; my body has given up trying out of self-preservation."

Nesta grimaced and held the jar far away from her face as she walked back towards him, pinching her nose with her other hand. He turned and motioned to a stool behind him, and she stepped up onto it as he spread his wings. A new pain struck her as she saw the extent of the damage up close, a pain she was suddenly glad he couldn't see on her face. "Is there a special way you need this done?" she called from behind him.

"No, just make sure you get every spot on the wings covered, then I will have to dry them for about fifteen minutes." He paused for a moment. "And be careful. Our wings are...sensitive."

"So I've heard. You're just going to have to put up with it." She scooped a little salve on her hand and began to smear it along the top of the intricate bones of his left wing, and he shuddered. Her face turned bright red again and she stepped back off the stool.

"No, it's fine. You're fine. It just...it hurts."

"You're sure?"

He turned to look at her. "Yes. Now get to work and hurry up – I don't want my dinner getting cold." He flashed a cocky smile at her as he turned back around.

"On second thought, I think I'll quite enjoy this," she countered impassively as she started applying the salve again. Thankfully, the intense concentration it took for her to avoid tearing the weak tissue remaining in his wings relieved her of the awkwardness of small conversation, but about halfway down his left wing, she suddenly stopped in realization.

"Wait. You can't smell anything?"

He snorted in amusement. "Not a thing. Why? You wearing a perfume just for m-ahhhhhh," he yelped as she squeezed one of his bones.

"Sorry, my mistake," she deadpanned as she finished his wing and moved to the other, finishing in silence. His arrogance was going to have to wait in line. Because her line of fire was concentrated on Morrigan tonight.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_That bitch._

Cassian sat in his bedroom, brooding over the evening as he air-dried his wings. Even for Nesta, that had been a low blow on his wings. But...he sighed. There's no way she could've really known. Despite his warning, she was only recently Fae and had no wings herself. She had no idea how sensitive wings actually were. How excruciating every day was for him in this state. How the slightest touch of hers on his wings had caused his body to…

He shook his head to clear it. He didn't need to be going down _that_ mental route either. Anyway, he knew, deep down, that she had only meant it as a warning, that she hadn't meant to cause him any real pain. Unlike her actions in the human world when he had visited her, he gruesomely remembered...although he _had_ deserved that one. Tonight, he had...felt her emotions. Felt them as if he was the one experiencing them. And in spite of his lying to himself constantly about the topic, in spite of his avoidance of her since Hybern, he knew now that it was true.

Nesta Archeron...was his mate.

He dipped his head. Of all women... He couldn't get enough of her, but he felt off-balance constantly when around her. And with how much she hated the Fae, with herself being Fae...he felt like he had no chance with her. And now she had seen him in this horrible state. A weakened man who had broken his promise to her, and she still took care of him. Helped heal him, despite the meaninglessness in light of the upcoming amputation. Helped him...remember why he fought in the first place.

And he resolved then that, come hell or high water, he would heal. Wings or no wings, he would find a way to protect this Court, this city, and, most importantly, her. With her feelings on the Fae, with her experience with men – he clenched his fists in primal anger at the reminder – he expected her to turn him down. But he was going to return to his battlefields. He was going to find a way to keep Velaris shielded. He was going to help Rhysand and Feyre protect Prythian. And despite the obstacles that laid between them, he was going to walk beside her until he could not physically walk anymore or until she no longer wanted him there. She had given him part of her strength tonight, despite his avoidance of her the entire month she had been living here. And now he was ready to confront the topic of her to himself.

He looked at the dinner he had self-prepared, as he had done every night since he was healed enough to walk after the events in Hybern...and threw it out. With a final push of determination, he got up and rushed downstairs and onto the Velaris pavement before he could stop himself.

And started living again.


	2. Chapter 2

Morrigan’s actions irritated Nesta so much that by the time she reached the townhouse, her fuming caused her to tear the front door off its hinges trying to open it. As she tried to set it back into place, she heard a low chuckling behind her as a wave of starlight surrounded the door, pulled it from her hands, and reattached it. She turned around to Rhysand and Azriel standing in the front hallway, Rhysand smiling.

“You know, if you got out more, you’d get more used to your newfound strength.”

Nesta flared her nostrils and walked past him. “You know, if you shut your mouth more, people might like you better.”

“Oh, I don’t know. Most people like me. And my mouth.” Rhysand paused for dramatic effect as he followed Nesta, who was searching the rooms around the house. “ _Speaking_ of your sister–” This comment elicited the desired glare from Nesta. “–don’t you want to know why we’re here?”

Nesta twirled on her heels. “I don’t particularly care why you’re here, to be honest. Where’s Morrigan?”

Rhysand raised his eyebrow and Azriel’s eyes flashed at the tone in her voice. “She’s upstairs with your sister. Can I help–” He cut off his sentence as she took off from the dining room up to her room.

Azriel shook his head. “You picked a great family to marry into, Rhys.”

“Hey, I’ve got to keep eternal life interesting somehow. Besides–” Rhysand turned to Azriel with a sly smile. “–I doubt either of them will _kill_ the other. Maybe slightly maul, but not kill.” Azriel gave him a cold look, then sank into one of the dinner table chairs, sighing.

“Let’s just get back to work, Rhys.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Nesta bounded up the steps of the staircase and strode into Elain’s and her bedroom, startling the two women inside.

“Nesta!” Elain turned to her sister with a warm smile that quickly faded at the look in her eyes. After briefly exchanging glances between Nesta and Morrigan, she coughed and moved towards the door, squeezing past Nesta. “I think I’m going to go check on dinner. Let me know if I can help with anything else, Morrigan.”

“Of course. Thank you, Elain.” Morrigan kept her voice steady but fixed her eyes on Nesta, who had already shut the door after Elain and started approaching her slowly. “Nesta...”

“Do you know what kind of situation you put me in earlier?” Nesta’s eyes glinted with rage as she studied Morrigan like a predator.

“You didn’t have to walk to his house, Nesta. No one forced you to.” Morrigan put her hands up and backed up a few steps towards the window, which shut behind her of its own accord. Her eyes widened but remained locked on Nesta.

“You didn’t have to lie to me!!! You know as well as I do that I would not have gone in there if you hadn’t told me he knew I was there.” Nesta took a chance to try to tackle her, but Morrigan winnowed a few steps behind her, causing Nesta to slide into the far wall, before quickly scrambling back up. Nesta’s eyes had turned a dark, unnatural shade and were glowing.

“Shit, Nesta...don’t you realize the situation he’s in? What was I supposed to do? He’s so depressed – I didn’t want him going into the amputation like that. Please understand what I was trying to do.” Morrigan tried backing up and tripped backwards over a dresser door that slid open underneath her ankles. Nesta took this opportunity to pounce again before Morrigan had a chance to react, and both of them became enveloped completely in darkness.

“So what? My feelings are expendable for you to help him? Is that how you see Elain and me? We’re just pawns to help you Fae achieve your own goals?”  


Morrigan felt strong waves of darkness lash at her wildly, but with little accuracy. She was able to deflect them mentally, but the required focus kept her from being able to push Nesta off, who was still struggling to land a blow. “Nesta, you know that’s not what I meant! What the hell is going on with you? As if you don’t care what happens to him!”

“Shut up! Shu--” Morrigan felt the weight on her deaden and the attacks stopped. Nesta rose off her, and Morrigan’s eyes were momentarily blinded as the darkness was lifted and they took in light again. Shielding her eyes to adjust them, she saw Azriel appearing by her side and Rhysand holding Nesta’s body in front of her, still except for the movement of a shallow breath. Nesta had some splattered blood on her face, but overall, the girl looked okay outside of some torn clothing. She shrugged off Azriel’s worried look and stared at Rhysand as she stood up and surveyed the room. Most of the room looked pristine still, but the floor was torched a pitch black where they had been fighting. Rhysand returned the floor to its normal state with a wave of his hand before returning her look.

“I knocked her unconscious mentally. I’m sorry, Morrigan – I didn’t realize she had any powers when I told her where you were.”

“It’s fine. She doesn’t seem to have any control of them, so I would have been able to fight her off until she exhausted herself.” Morrigan brushed herself off and looked in the sisters’ vanity mirror. Cauldron, she looked horrible. Her clothes and hair were messed up, and it looked like there was a large pool of blood in her hair. She touched the area on the back of her head and flinched at the pain. She must have hit her head on the floor. At least she knew the blood on Nesta was from her, not Nesta – Cassian would have been livid if she had actually hurt her. “Do you know what happened?”

“Not any more than you, Mor. However, I gave her a binding bracelet for now–” He gestured at the silver band on Nesta’s left wrist. “–so when she wakes up, this won’t happen again. I’ll let her decide at that point what she wants to do for the future, whether she wants to learn to control the power or to keep it bound. In the meantime, get yourself cleaned up; we’re going to be discussing Feyre’s extraction plan at dinner in an hour.” Morrigan’s back straightened at the news, but she simply nodded and took one last glance at Feyre’s sister before winnowing back to her apartment.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Cassian spread his wings on the roof of a building across the street from the townhome. He had intended to come here for dinner, expecting only to have to interact with Nesta and her younger sister, but he had heard Rhysand and Azriel inside before he tried to enter the house, and he had lost his steel. Instead, he had winnowed to this roof and spent the last several minutes fighting with himself over this situation he had placed himself in.

In his head, it sounded stupid avoiding the two guys he had spent the vast bulk of his years taming the Illyrian armies and Night Court with, but if there was anyone besides Nesta he regretted being in such a weak state around, it was those guys. His weakness brought the whole group down, and if his wings were amputated... It was one thing to try to present himself as okay around either them or Nesta, and quite another to have to act around all three, especially knowing how Rhysand would delight in tormenting him around her. He had turned around to climb down and go home when he heard a familiar voice.

“Retreating so soon? Hm. It’s not like you to ditch a fight, Cassian.” He retracted his wings and spun around to see Morrigan sitting on the roof near him.

“Retreating? No, what I’m doing is called tactical maneuvering. Why do you ask? Can’t get enough of me as is?” He forced a smirk onto his face.

“Defense mechanisms aren’t going to get you anywhere with me, Cass; I know you too well. Besides–” She looked at him with a knowing taunt. “–I see there’s someone else in that department for you. Now come on, sit.” She patted the spot next to her.

Cassian eyed her warily and walked over towards her, though he remained standing, facing the townhome. “You know that the second I walk in there, there’s going to be questions, Mor. I just don’t want the attention.”

“Arrogant as always. You really think Rhys and Az showed up just to say hi to you? They’re rarely in Velaris, let alone at dinner anymore because of the Spring Court situation, so it’s a special occasion when they do. You’d know that if you left your house more often. Now _sit_.” Her tone sharpened with annoyance.

He snorted in inconvenience, but he sat nonetheless. She had always been skilled at getting under his skin, and tonight was no exception. His eyes glazed as memories of Rhys, Az, and him fighting together in the mountains flashed through his mind. “What good am I to any of you without my wings, Mor? Seriously? Trying to help right now would only slow down the team when our High Lady needs us at full potential. It’s better for me to be out of the way.”

She turned to him in even stronger annoyance. “Excuse me, did losing your wings cause you to lose your mind? You captain the Night Court’s armies _and_ you’re our lead strategist and yet you act like the loss of your wings removes your benefit to our Court? Even putting aside the question of you completely abandoning the protection of your _mate_ –” He coughed in surprise at her knowledge. “–you can’t seriously be considering abandoning the protection of your _country_ over some selfish absorbency in self-hatred. What happened to the guy who slept with one of his best friends and put himself politically at risk just to try to protect her from her parents and the Autumn Court? What happened to the guy who swore a promise to Nesta to shield her and Elain?” His face twisted at her mention of his broken promise. “What happened to the guy who shielded Azriel from a possible death? Or maybe I’ve been wrong this whole time, and we lost our Cassian back in Hybern. I don’t even know what to think of you anymore, to be honest.” She raised her arms in frustration and stood up to leave.

“Mor, wait.” She crossed her arms and turned back towards him.

“I have to help them get ready. We’re discussing plans tonight to bring back our High Lady from the Spring Court.” His eyes widened. “We could use our Captain there. If you want to try to prove me wrong, show up tonight. If not...well, let’s just say that I’m hoping that’s not even an option in your mind.” She gave him a stern look as she disappeared into her winnow.

Her words had stung him badly, especially coming from her. Despite knowing him for less time than Rhys and Azriel, she probably knew him on a much deeper level. And if she was seeing this in him...it was probably true. All that resolve he had shown to himself in his apartment had dissipated the instant he had to actually confront his situation, and she was calling him out on it.

He turned to look at the Velarian skyline. If he could do anything to help his High Lady see this starlight again, he would do it. Morrigan knew that. Hell, he knew that. And he hoped Nesta knew that too. He winnowed to the front door and began the first fight on his personal battlefield.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Mmm, it smells so good.”

“No sampling, Rhys! We need to have enough for the dinner.” Elain smacked Rhysand’s arm as he reached for some of the food she had prepared.

“I’m the High Lord of the Night Court and I can’t even get early dinner in my own house,” he pouted.

“Well, you’re not the High Lord of this kitchen!”

“Technically...” Rhys gave up at her look. He had asked Elain to prepare this strategy dinner, and now he had to live with the consequences. A bit of silence passed between them before she spoke in a quieter, concerned voice.

“How is she doing?”

“Still resting.” Rhys didn’t have to ask who she meant. “She wore herself out quite a bit earlier. It’s always overpowering the first time someone uses their Fae powers. Unfortunately for her, it’s usually when someone is in their early childhood, not early adulthood. Once she’s rested more, if she wants to go that path, we will help her learn to control her powers.”

Elain nodded as she stirred the dinner stew. “I’ll help convince her to.”

Rhysand grimaced. “Elain, I doubt she’ll want to. You see how she is around Fae, let alone having Fae powers herself.”

“Well, you don’t know my sister.” Elain’s response came sharper than Rhys expected from her and caught him off-guard. “She has rough edges, and she doesn’t like new people or new things. She’s hard to deal with sometimes, and yes, she can be very rude. But...” Elain stopped stirring while contemplating. “She will go to any end of this world, do anything to protect what matters to her. She will learn to control these powers if it helps her protect her family better. Just let me talk to her first.” She eyed him during the last line, then went back to stirring the stew.

Hmph. Maybe Feyre’s sisters weren’t so different from her after all. Speaking of...he tugged gently on his mating bond to let his High Lady know his thoughts were on her. She sent back a decidedly more lewd message, and he smiled. He was going to have to…

Morrigan winnowed into the kitchen between him and Elain, sending him jumping back in shock. Concerned vibes came down the mating bond, and he sent back reassurances of his safety. Morrigan whispered inaudibly to Elain, who went running off.

“Morrigan, have you heard of the front door? You scared the crap out of me. And now you seem to have scared off our cook as well.”

“Oh, relax. All good reasons, I assure you.” She looked around. “Where’s Azriel? Is he not coming?”

“I sent him to get Cassian from his apartment; he really should be here for this.” Morrigan hung her head in response. “Oh, and thanks, by the way.” Rhys grabbed a spoonful of stew and downed it before Mor could catch him and returned to the dining room to await Azriel and Cassian.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“N-st------esta----NESTA!”

Nesta jumped up in bed and spun to confront her...sister, who was pushing her in bed. She groaned; her head was killing her, and she felt exhausted. “Not now, Elain. Let me sleep.” She turned over, laid back down and started drifting off again, only to feel Elain crawl closer to her and exhaled in exasperation. “Seriously, Elain...”

“Cassian’s here.” 

Nesta’s eyes shot open, but she didn’t move. “What do I care?” she said in as dull a tone as she could muster.

“I don’t care what you choose to tell others, including Cassian, but I’m your sister, and I saw how you acted in the days following all three of his visits, so don’t waste your time trying to convince me. Now get up.” Elain shook Nesta a bit more until Nesta flipped back over.

“Elain, I feel like a trainwreck. Even if I was interested in Cassian– _and I’m not_ –” She glared at her sister. “–it would do no good for me to go downstairs feeling like this. What even happened? I don’t remember much after I got home.”

Elain relayed the events earlier with Morrigan as well as Rhysand’s offer, the binding bracelet, and the upcoming dinner, and Nesta slanted her eyes in irritation.

“Why? Why is it always _me_? Why can’t you or Feyre, someone who is actually okay with their Fae body, be the one who gets these powers?”

“Well...technically Feyre does have–“

“Not my point, Elain...” Nesta got out of bed and headed to the window, throwing it open. “FIND ANOTHER GIRL TO MESS WITH!” she shouted out the window at the top of her lungs before Elain ran over and shut the window hastily.

“Nesta, you’re going to bother the neighbors! It’s _rude_!” Nesta steamed, but she walked away from the window. “Besides, Cassian is going to be here, and you need to start getting ready.”

Nesta hung her shoulders in resignation and sat on the bed. She could see Elain wasn’t going to let this go, and so she decided to just go along with the night. “I’m _not_ wearing Feyre’s clothes to this stupid dinner.” Elain’s eyes lit up as she ran to the closet and threw it open. “And just so we’re clear, the only reason I’m going to this dinner is because I want to be part of the team to rescue Feyre.”

“Sure!” Elain was rummaging through items in the back of her closet: Rhysand had given her and Nesta a budget for some new clothes due to their new bodies, but she hadn’t wanted to have to interact with the shopkeepers, so she largely kept to some simple outfits that reminded her the least of Prythian that Morrigan had quietly offered her when they first came to Velaris. “What about this?” Nesta caught the dress thrown at her.

“Elain, I’m not going to be able to fit into any of your clothes.” 

“They’re not mine; they’re yours!”

Nesta blinked at Elain and looked down at the dress, sizing it up against herself. Indeed, it was fit for her. “But I never...”

Elain turned back from searching the closet and smiled. “I know. Rhysand gave me way more money than I could ever spend on myself, so I thought I’d get you a few things for if you changed your mind.”

Nesta stood up. “How many things is ‘a few things?’”

Elain blushed and grinned. “Half this closet?” 

Nesta sighed. Elain was far too generous for her own good. And thankfully, she was also much more tasteful in her clothing choices than Feyre. So for the sake of going along to get along, and maybe, just maybe a bit more personal reasons she wouldn’t admit, Nesta gave in and sat down next to Elain.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Listen, all of you could have solved this issue by just setting this up prior,” Cassian opined as Azriel and Morrigan argued about the means of his arrival.

“Shut up, Cassian. You weren’t the one spending the last hour searching the city for you.” Azriel glared at him.

“Well maybe if you or Rhys had _told_ me that you were getting him, I would’ve saved you the trouble!” Morrigan countered, sparking a new round of argument between the two of them.

“Well, this conversation, for one, is making me glad I came back for dinner tonight. I can only hope the strategizing is this much fun.”

“Shut up Cassian,” Morrigan and Azriel said in unison as Rhysand shook his head in the background.

“Ugh, you guys are unbear–” Cassian’s words were cut off suddenly as Elain ran behind him, yelling behind her.

“Sorry, sorry! I’ll have dinner placed shortly, Rhys!”

“No problem, Elain! You’re still more punctual than Cassian. He was supposed to be here about a month ago.” Morrigan snorted despite herself at Rhys’s line, and Cassian turned towards him.

“The only reason I’m not hitting you for that is because you made Az smile for the first time in about twenty years.” And just like that, the group was back. Tonight’s worrying, the _month’s_ worrying had been about nothing. “Alright, let’s get to work getting our High Lady back.”

“I second that motion!” Rhys moved towards the table, where some schematics and blueprints were laid out in front of his and Amren’s seats, and he motioned for the rest of the group to join.

“I hope you guys weren’t planning on starting without me?” 

Cassian looked up the stairs at the incoming voice and stopped in his tracks at the sight of Nesta coming down to dinner. She was wearing a black dress, tightly fit at the waist with a silver and black belt that complemented the silver binding bracelet on her wrist and the black decorative gloves on her slender hands. She looked every bit Night Court as she did Nesta, wearing her power and confidence outwardly like a sleeve. A few steps from the bottom of the stairs, she looked straight into his eyes with sparks in hers, following his eyes as she passed him, challenging him.

“Uhh...Cassiannnnnnnnnn. You kinda need to be at the table for this to work.” 

He swiveled his head to give an irritated look to Morrigan, who simply gave a mischievous look back and motioned for him to sit down. As he sat down across from Rhys, though, Nesta sat down next to him, and he realized that he might just like these strategy dinners even more than usual.


	3. Chapter 3

Nesta watched Rhysand unfold several blueprints on the dinner table. Many of the rooms were unmarked and there were some marked doorways that led to nowhere, but it looked like a massive building. “Is this in the Spring Court?” she asked Rhys.

“Indeed,” he smiled confidently, “this is what I have been able to gather of Tamlin’s mansion between Morrigan’s trip last year and various short images Feyre has been able to send along our bond when she’s felt safe doing so. Unfortunately, I’m still missing some areas, but this should be able to do for the extraction mission.”

“I trust our High Lady still remains unexposed?” Amren spoke up in the quiet, neutral tone Nesta was used to from her.

Rhys nodded. “Yes. But that is to be expected, considering Tamlin’s complete lack of any common sense or intelligence.”

“We also were afforded a nice fortune with our trump card on Lucien,” Azriel chimed in. “There’s no way he would risk his mate’s safety, even if he found out about Feyre.”

Nesta stood up, leaned her hands on and gripped the table, and slanted her eyes at Az. “Are you suggesting you’d actually retaliate against Lucien with my sister?” 

“Of course not, Nesta.” Rhys hastily replied for Azriel and looked square into her eyes. “I’m not that kind of High Lord. And I certainly would never let harm befall _any_ of my or Feyre’s family if I can help it.” She slowly sat back down, eying him, and he put on a sly smirk. “But Lucien doesn’t have to know that.”

“What’s our plan?” Amren refocused the conversation. “How are you planning on getting anyone into the Spring Court? If any of us attempt to winnow in, they’ll know immediately. And we can’t risk them putting an even higher guard on Feyre.”

“Exactly. Azriel’s and my original plan was to send two teams in simultaneously. We were planning on winnowing in a team to divert attention with a direct assault on the front gates, while the recon team’s arrival would be shielded by Feyre here–” Rhys pointed to the library. “–for the actual extraction. However, I received this...complication today from Feyre.” He fished a small piece of torn parchment from an interior fold of his jacket and handed it to Amren, who read it before passing it around the table. When it got to Nesta, she sucked in a breath at her sister’s handwriting:

_Incoming attack on Day Ct. Hybern and Dawn. Two days._

“Needless to say, this was not an expected turn of events, and we will have to thin our resources out,” Rhys continued. “I’m not entirely sure Hybern’s reasons for moving on the Day Court, but I would imagine he is trying to cut us off from our only border state in an attempt to starve our potential allies. It is imperative we send a warning to them without alerting Hybern, which Azriel has volunteered to do.”

“Do we even need the distraction team?” Morrigan interrupted. “If our High Lady can shield our entry, you alone could simply winnow in and winnow her back out, could you not?”

Rhys twisted his face in frustration. “Unfortunately, no. Apparently, Tamlin has implemented trappers on the mansion, no doubt at Hybern’s suggestion. The fool would never have thought to do it on his own.”

“Trappers allow winnowing in to a location but prevent winnowing out.” Nesta heard Cassian whisper in her ear as the rest of the table groaned. 

“I know, idiot.” She whispered back harshly with a side glare and he backed off, hands raised in innocence. Of course she didn’t _actually_ know what a trapper or any of these other blasted Fae terms were, but she didn’t need _him_ to be the one to explain them. She caught Morrigan looking at her and rolled her eyes, turning back to Rhysand, who had begun talking again.

“...so we need to buy time to destroy them in order to winnow Feyre out. And I’d prefer to avoid casualties if possible – Hybern’s causing enough death as is. I can knock the interior guards unconscious, but I obviously can’t do it to the entire Spring Court defense.”

“I could go in alone as the distraction.” Amren volunteered. “I could manipulate the guard’s minds so they simply exhausted themselves fighting trees or each other.”

“Without any backup? No.” Rhys turned to her with fire in his eyes. “No one is doing this alone. I’m not losing anyone on this mission.”

“I can more than handle myself, Rhys. Besides, you need Morrigan to come with you to speed up your search of the mansion, and Cassian is stuck in Velaris as long as his wings remain a liability.”

Nesta nearly buckled at a sharp pain in her gut, as Amren and Rhysand continued to bicker. She scrambled to minimize her reaction and eyed Cassian out of the corner of his eye. His face looked troubled and pale, and his eyes were distant and lost, away from the conversation. He finally caught her questioning glance and straightened his posture, shaking his head subtly. She tried to make eye contact with him again, but he avoided her stare, so she tuned back in to the argument.

“You’re not going in alone, Amren, and that’s final. We’ll figure something else out or postpone the extraction until Azriel is back.”

“I’ll get the amputation.” The entire table turned in shock as Cassian spoke quietly. Nesta felt her stomach pit again. “I’ll go in as backup for Amren, and they won’t be able to target my wings.”

“Cassian...I can’t let you do tha–“

“Rhys, my wings aren’t healing.” Cassian cut off Rhysand with a firm stare. “You know it, I know it, everyone at this table knows it. We’re playing at a disadvantage, because we’ve delayed the procedure. That’s my fault, and I plan to rectify it.”

“You don’t even know how you’ll react once your wings are gone Cassian. If you remember, I also know what it feels like to have badly wounded wings, and losing your wings will be even worse than that. And if you’re unable to go because of that or because of complications from the procedure, then you’ll have given them up for nothing.”

“But we have to do something. I’m not going to put the safety of our High Lady at risk over my temporary emotional health. We need to act.”

“You know he’s right, Rhys.” Amren spoke up. “If you won’t let me go in alone, it’s the only solution.”

Rhys silently studied the both of them for a long time, and Nesta looked back and forth in incredulity between him and Cassian, who had steeled his expression. This was a ridiculous plan: Cassian had just started coming out of his shell – he couldn’t risk going back into that downward spiral. Her heart rate increased as Rhys put down his pen and lowered his eyes.

“Fine. I’ll have our healers perform it tomorrow morning.”

“ _No_.” Nesta stood up and slammed both her hands on the table, startling the group into silence. She waited for her heart to relax a bit then continued. “He’s _not_ having his wings amputated.” Rhys opened his mouth to respond, but she cut him off. “I’ll go.”

“Hell no.” It was Cassian’s turn to interrupt, and he ignored the dirty look she threw his way. “You’re in a new body, you haven’t been trained for fighting, you’d simply be a sitting duck.” Her look didn’t change, and he turned to Rhys. “Come on Rhys, this is ridiculous. Tell her.”

Rhys looked up at the two of them, noting each of their resolve. He turned to Nesta with a sympathetic look. “You can’t be Amren’s backup, Nesta.”

“I never said I would be.” She focused her eyes like lasers at Rhysand’s, and his demeanor slowly softened. He interlocked his hands on the table and leaned in, looking up at her.

“What’s your plan?”

“Rhys, you can’t be serious!” Cassian yelled at him in shock, but Nesta responded before Rhys had the chance to.

“Tamlin won’t hurt me – I’m Feyre’s family. I can be winnowed in and distract Tamlin and Lucien into finding Feyre. She shields your simultaneous winnow into the library as planned, before being summoned to our ‘reunion.’ You can then search the mansion for the trappers, and you can come find the two of us when you need to winnow us back. It won’t be suspicious for the two of us to spend alone time together right after I return to the Spring Court.”

Rhys contemplated for a few seconds, and Amren spoke up. “You can’t just appear at the Spring Court, Nesta. You don’t have the ability to winnow as far as we know, and as far as _they_ know, you don’t have _any_ powers. Even Tamlin isn’t that stupid not to sense something’s up.”

“You imprisoned me, tortured me.” Rhysand looked up sharply at Nesta’s words. “You gave me this bracelet–” She gestured to her left wrist. “–to ensure if I had any powers I wouldn’t be able to use them to escape. You were going to use Elain and me as leverage to get Feyre to return.” She looked back and forth between each of the members of the table. “Tamlin and Lucien will eat it up if they think as poorly of all of you as you claim.”

Rhysand thought carefully before responding. “It’s hard to pretend we hurt you if there’s no physical proof, and I’m not willing to go that route just to justify your story. Maybe we can touch it up a bit better.”

Cassian widened his eyes in horror at Rhys’s consideration of Nesta’s plan and opened his mouth to speak, but Nesta shot out a reply quickly to beat him to the punch. “I know you can’t see them right now, but I’m starting to bruise from my fight with Morrigan this afternoon. After a day or two with no healing, it will look much more convincing. And my bracelet will prevent my body from healing more rapidly if I have those abilities.” Her eyes pleaded with Rhysand in a silent competition with Cassian’s.

Rhysand sighed. “Who would winnow you in?”

“Cassian.” She felt a sharp intake of breath to her right. “I’ll say he helped me escape. Tamlin and Lucien saw how he acted in Hybern; they’ll believe it.”

Rhys covered his face with his hands and slid them down his face in thought, carefully studying Nesta. “What does the rest of this table think?” He shot a glance at Cassian to send the message that the question was not directed at him.

“It’s a risk, but it would allow me to accompany Azriel to help provide further defense to the Day Court.” Naturally, Amren spoke first in reply. “It has its benefits, though there’s no way to guarantee her safety going in alone with no defenses. If Hybernian soldiers are there, or if Tamlin doesn’t showboat her to Feyre as a present, we might not be able to bring her back.” She relaxed back into her chair to indicate she was done speaking.

“Morrigan?”

“I say go for it. See what she’s got. You’re not going to stop her from doing what she feels is necessary anyway, Rhys.” Nesta’s confidence grew with the endorsement by Morrigan, but she didn’t fail to catch the warning look Mor threw her way.

“Az?”

Azriel looked stone-faced in Cassian’s direction for awhile before responding. “It works for me. But Feyre will be unhappy at the use of her sister.”

“I know.” Rhys looked at Cassian. “Would you like to speak, now?”

Cassian circled his gaze around the table, finally resting on Nesta, who stared firmly back at him. “I think it’s crazy to send someone who isn’t even used to their own Fae senses defenseless into foreign territory. But apparently I’m the only one, so maybe I’m the one that’s crazy.” He slumped into his chair before locking eyes with Rhys, and Nesta almost felt bad for him. Almost. As if she would allow him to give up his wings in order to stop her. Morrigan caught eyes with her again and Nesta wondered what Mor was trying to tell her.

Just then, a jolt at the end of the table caused her to jump, and she pivoted to see Elain blushing, putting various pans and centerpiece plates down. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to drop the pans so strongly. I hope I’m not interrupting.”

“Trust me, Elain, food is always welcome. Come sit and chat with us!” Morrigan offered her a warm smile and Elain returned it, passing the plates down the table and taking a seat to Nesta’s left. Nesta focused her gaze back on Cassian to check in, but she found him diving into his dinner and firmly ignoring her, so she returned the favor and joined in on Elain and Morrigan’s conversation.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Rhysand flexed his wings outside the townhome before taking off in flight. As he expected, Cassian had ditched dinner as soon as he had finished eating to return back to his apartment. Neither Nesta nor Cassian had acknowledged the other upon his departure, though Rhys knew that coldness would be temporary. For now, he owed his Captain a respect of his wishes. Cassian’s mental message – _Meet me at the apartment after_ – had come through clear during dinner, and Rhysand knew Cassian wanted to share his thoughts on the extraction without Nesta present.

Cassian’s apartment came into view and Rhysand dipped swiftly into a smooth landing. The door was open, so he made his way in, making sure to make as loud a noise as possible for Cassian to hear with his dampened sense of smell.

“Hmph. Took you long enough.” Cassian jumped down the stairs to his living room and turned to Rhys, his brow covered in sweat.

Rhys shook his head and smiled. “You’re going to give yourself an aneurysm pushing yourself that hard every time she upsets you.”

Cassian rolled his eyes and wiped his brow with a spare medical towel. “Like I didn’t see you destroy several rooms in the House of Winds when Feyre was at the Spring Court originally.” The men locked eyes, then Cassian slumped into a chair in exhaustion.

“Fair enough.” Rhys walked over and sat across from Cassian. He had never told anyone about the visions of his mate vomiting in trauma out of respect for her, but it was true that the bottling of his emotions had led to some massive...‘stress relief’ sessions, especially when he had felt powerless to help her. “What’s up?”

“What’s up is that you’re sending _my mate_ into enemy territory and just throwing your hands in the air and hoping she doesn’t die.” Cassian growled in a low tone and spread his wings territorially.

“The same could be said about my own mate, Cassian. Don’t think I don’t value the lives of those I send into danger. I wouldn’t let her do this if I didn’t trust her ability to pull it off.” Rhysand’s cool gaze met Cassian’s fierceness with equal determination.

Cassian stood up in anger. “Oh, please. Feyre has the powers of seven High Lords. It is not an equal comparison. Nesta hasn’t even _asked_ to be trained yet, and I definitely can’t train her in two days even if she did!”

“She’ll have a binding bracelet on,” Rhysand reminded Cassian as he stood up inches from his face to mirror his Captain’s movements. “I obviously don’t expect her to fight. But even you–” He sent air with his wings to make clear his decision had already been made on the topic. “–will undoubtedly agree that she has an attitude and a sharp tongue that will help deliver her story. If she can convince the rest of my team, I have no doubt she’ll have every bit of Tamlin’s attention on her story.”

“So you’ll just put her life at risk when there’s another option?” Cassian’s growl came out much more threatening than Rhys expected, and he straightened his spine.

“I would not throw Nesta into a situation I did not think she could handle. And if you’ve forgotten–” He swung his wings once. “–you aren’t the only one with a mate risking her safety here. And _again_ if you’ve forgotten–” He swung his wings more forcefully in assertion. “– _my mate is also your High Lady_.” Rhys got as close to Cassian’s face as he could and let out his own, deep growl. “So I’d appreciate you take in the bigger picture here. If it bothers you, I can have someone else winnow Nesta in.” 

They sat there in cold silence for what seemed like several minutes, daring the other to back down, until Cassian finally dipped his eyes in acquiescence and sat back down.

“I thought so. Report to me in the morning to begin preparations. Do what you need to do in the meantime to get this out of your system. I don’t want to hear any more of this until both of them are back here, safe.” Rhys turned to walk out of the apartment, but he stopped at the sound of Cassian’s voice.

“No one is winnowing her in but me.”

“Good.” Rhys walked out, leaving Cassian to sort himself out and rest.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Nesta sighed at the pile of dirty dishes that arose before her and wished she hadn’t dismissed Elain to sleep so quickly. But it wasn’t right for Elain to clean up after the amount of work she put into preparing dinner. “Well, here goes,” she muttered as she grabbed the first plate.

“Want help?” 

Nesta recognized Morrigan’s voice behind her and almost immediately declined, but she thought better of it after studying the tower of plates again. “I guess it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.”

“Always the epitome of pleasant, Nesta.” Morrigan moved next to her and grabbed a plate from the top of the stack, and Nesta side-eyed her.

“I said I could use help, not conversation.”

Morrigan bristled and turned to her in irritation. “You know, it’s not that far-fetched of a possibility that we might actually care about you and your sisters, Nesta. We aren’t Ianthe or the King of Hybern.” Nesta ignored her and continued scrubbing her dish. Morrigan bit her lip in frustration. “You know what, Nesta? Whatever. I’m done trying. Let me know when you want to pull yourself out of whatever hole you’re digging yourself in.” Morrigan threw her disk in the sink and walked out of the kitchen.

Nesta stopped scrubbing and closed her eyes. “Why did you look at me like that before Elain came to the table?”

Morrigan stopped just outside the doorway, back still to Nesta. She took a few calming breaths and turned around. “I’ll make you a deal. You have a nice conversation with me and let someone other than your sisters or Cassian talk to you about _anything_ , and when we finish these dishes, I’ll answer your questions. Can you do that?”

Nesta didn’t move for a few seconds at first. Her walls were so locked in, she forgot what it even felt like to open the gates for someone. She didn’t even let Cassian in, not really, so she wasn’t sure she ever could with Mor. But she guessed she could try, at the very least. She held out the plate Morrigan threw into the sink. Morrigan pulled it from her hand slowly and cautiously.

“How’d you end up being part of Rhysand’s Court?” Nesta tried to jump out with the first question to avoid having to be the one to talk. Morrigan flinched.

“That’s a long, very complicated story.” Nesta pursed her lips and moved to the next dish. Morrigan groaned. She had meant small talk, but maybe her story would help Nesta get some of her own past off her chest as well. So she told the story of her parents, the Autumn Court, and how Rhysand, Azriel, and Cassian had tried to protect her from her parents and ultimately rescued her from being left to die.

“Why didn’t the Autumn Court accept you as a Princess?”

Morrigan blinked. “I...uhh...slept with an Illyrian.” Who that Illyrian was, she wasn’t going to be talking about _any_ time soon with Nesta.

Nesta snorted. “Guess the two worlds aren’t that different, after all.” They worked in silence for a bit, then Nesta continued. “You know, I used to care about all that class stuff. I can’t believe I ever let Elain and myself get stuck in that world.”

Morrigan eyed Nesta. “What made you change your mind?”

Images of her struggling with Tomas filled Nesta’s mind and she dropped her plate, shattering it on the kitchen floor. She shook the memories from her head as Morrigan scrambled with her speech. 

“I–I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“No, it’s...it’s nothing. Feyre changed it.” The lie came out quickly and smoothly as she had trained herself to do, and she went to get a dustpan and broom from the utility closet to clean up the plate. When she returned, Morrigan gave her a look that made her dread agreeing to this conversation. At least until Morrigan spoke.

“Cassian would go to the ends of this world for you, you know.” Nesta hesitated sweeping for a brief moment, then finished cleaning up the broken plate. “He wasn’t insinuating you couldn’t do this mission earlier; he was just being his stupid, protective self.”

“I know.” Nesta briefly exchanged glances with Morrigan before restarting on the dishes.

Morrigan continued to eye Nesta out of the corner of her eye as she worked. “Thank you for sticking up for him tonight. He’s forgotten how to stick up for himself.”

Nesta didn’t respond to Morrigan’s statement, and the two girls worked a bit more in silence until all the plates were clean and back in their cupboards.

“Thanks for talking with me tonight. I hope we get to do so more after you return from the Spring Court.” Morrigan smiled at Nesta and turned to leave.

“Wait.” Nesta called after Morrigan, who looked back over her shoulder at her. “Can you...talk to me about Cassian?” 

Morrigan smiled softly and motioned to the dining room table. “I thought you’d never ask.” The two women proceeded to talk until the Velarian starlight broke into first light.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has sections that are more intense in violence than the fanfiction as a whole. Just wanted to give out a warning so you don't get caught off-guard. If you just want fluff, skip the 3rd section entirely.

The morning after was hectic for Nesta, to say the least. Rhysand had apparently planned on calling a meeting early to discuss the extraction plans in more detail, but at the sight of Morrigan and her passed out at the dinner table, he had reluctantly postponed the meeting until late evening to allow them to sleep longer in actual beds. In reality, Nesta only laid in bed for another fitful hour before starting her day anyway. She couldn’t keep tomorrow’s mission off her mind, and besides, she couldn’t deny to herself that she was worried about Cassian’s quickness to surrender his wings the night before, even if it was for the defense of his High Lady. As she finished washing up, she resolved to pay a visit to him before the meeting to try to talk things out.

Her nose was blasted with a sweet scent that her Fae senses easily discerned as freshly prepared rolls as she descended the stairs, and she smiled. Despite the situation she found herself in, she was happy to see Elain had found a way to enjoy herself. The truth was, her misery was acceptable to her as long as her sisters were happy. It was, she supposed, part of the reason she was so determined to help bring Feyre back, even though it was also true she would never let Cassian sacrifice his wings. Elain must have heard her come downstairs, because she came running out of the kitchen, smiling broadly.

“Nesta! Good morning! Would you like to have lunch with us?” Elain’s eyes carried a sparkle in them that Nesta hadn’t seen from her in a long time, and her chest warmed.

“’Us?’” Nesta raised an eyebrow, and Elain gestured towards the table at a laid-back Morrigan, leaning back in her chair with her legs propped up over the armrest. Nesta nodded at Mor in acknowledgement, and Mor sent back a lazy half-wave in response. Nesta turned back towards Elain.

“I’d love to, but I can’t today. I have plans.”

“Unless those plans are with us, I’m afraid you’re out of luck.” Morrigan cut in before Elain could respond, and Nesta pivoted back to look at her, eyebrow raised. “Azriel and Amren have already left for the Day Court; Rhysand planned on telling us this morning. And speaking of Rhysand, he and Cassian are out hunting.”

“... _Hunting_.” Nesta’s eyebrow rose further as she replied, skeptically.

“Yes, hunting.” Morrigan leaned back further in her chair in amusement and put her hands on the back of her head. “It _is_ a fairly popular activity among the Illyrian males, you know.”

“And you know this...how?”

“I tracked them down immediately after the meeting postponement. I knew I couldn’t sleep with tomorrow’s events looming.” Morrigan paused for dramatic effect to study the bags under Nesta’s eyes that she hadn’t been able to fully cover with the concealant she borrowed from Elain. “Looks like I wasn’t the only one?”

Nesta narrowed her eyes. “And when will they be back?”

“The meeting.” Morrigan smiled tauntingly, before gesturing to the chair across from her. “Might as well have lunch with us in the meantime.”

Nesta glared at her, but she knew the futility of any protest. She wasn’t the extrovert either of her sisters were. She had no interest in spending time exploring a city and the meeting of strangers that would inevitably occur. Morrigan knew this and was exploiting the hell out of it. She sighed and sat down at the table, making sure to take a seat several chairs away from where Morrigan had gestured, for good measure.

“Honestly, Nesta, you act like it kills you to spend time with company.” Elain’s chastisement came from the direction of the kitchen. Nesta spun her head slowly to address a response in her direction, not wanting to take her eyes off Morrigan.

“Only with her, I assure you.”

Elain’s response gradually grew louder as she walked into the room with a tray of bread, plates, and assorted fruits, vegetables, and meats. “You forget that Rhys is your brother-in-law, Nesta, and Mor is his family. So she’s our family too.”

Nesta scoffed, eyes still on Morrigan. “She’s not even his real cousin!” Morrigan rose her eyebrows and blinked in response, not backing down to Nesta’s challenge.

“Well, Rhys considers her his family, so that’s that. Besides, you can sulk over there if you want, but the food is going to be over here–” Elain set the food and plates down across from Morrigan, who took her eyes off Nesta, swiveled her feet to the floor, and smiled at Elain in grateful appreciation as she began loading her plate. “–for when you change your mind.”

Nesta exhaled in frustration, but the thrum in her stomach eventually won out, and she reluctantly moved over next to Elain, who had already begun asking questions of Morrigan about the Spring Court. Thankfully, both of the other women allowed her to spend the rest of lunch in stubborn silence, but it didn’t slip past Nesta the way Morrigan lingered on Lucien slightly longer than the others or, especially, the way Elain indulgently listened. She frowned, but she continued to eat her lunch in silence, eventually excusing herself to her room until Rhys and Cassian returned.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Nesta stared out the window of the House of Winds’s conference room in boredom. Morrigan, Cassian, and Rhys had been discussing strategies to find the trappers without being detected for hours, and her involvement in the conversation hadn’t been necessary yet. She stole a glance at Cassian, but his back was turned to her, so she turned her attention back on the view of Velaris. 

In truth, his behavior the entire day could have been described the same way as his posture. When Rhys and Cassian returned, only Rhys waited at the townhome for Morrigan and her, with Rhys explaining to them that Cassian had gone ahead to the House of Winds. Then, when they’d arrived, Cassian had flown Morrigan up the long staircase instead, leaving Rhys to take her. She had gotten the hint and left him alone to brood in his own idiocy for now. If he wasn’t going to respect her decision, then she wasn’t going to throw him a pity party.

“This is where you come in, Nesta.” Her attention broke to Rhys addressing her. “As you can see, we’re going to need _a lot_ of time, so the longer you can distract Tamlin, Lucien, and the guards, the better for us. We’ll meet up with Feyre and you as soon as we can, but you’ll have to maintain your act until then. Have you prepared your story well?”

Nesta nodded. “I’m ready. They won’t suspect a thing, I promise.”

Rhys smiled. “Good. Tomorrow, at 9 am, Cassian is going to winnow you in here–” He pointed to a nook in the castle walls on the side of the castle on the blueprints. Nesta tried to meet Cassian’s eyes in response to his name being mentioned, but Cassian stared intently at the document in avoidance. “–but he’ll have to leave immediately, as his arrival will certainly not be welcomed the same way as yours. Since he’s winnowing you outside the castle, he will be able to winnow out without issue. Wait near the arrival area – Tamlin will undoubtedly sense Cassian’s powers and personally investigate. I look forward to hearing how much you trash me to him.” He gave her a sly smirk, and she confidently nodded back.

“It’ll work. We’ll get my sister.” She surprised herself with how intense her words came out, and even more so at how strongly she believed them herself. She was done letting her family rescue her – it was time she returned the favor for a change. Her eyes blazed in determination, and she sensed his demeanor relax.

“We will.” He exhaled, and looked around the room. “Well, that’s all we need to discuss until the actual extraction tomorrow.” Cassian immediately winnowed out of the room, and Rhys narrowed his eyes in irritation, pausing to breathe before finishing his thought. “Do you have any questions, Nesta?”

She stared where Cassian had been sitting in equal irritation. “I think I’m good.” She could feel Rhys’s eyes still on her, but she wasn’t going to show her impatience with Cassian.

Morrigan let out a cough. “I think I’m going to walk home. I’ll leave it to you to take her home, Rhys, if that’s fine with you, Nesta.” Nesta raised her hand in dismissal to designate that she was okay, and Morrigan left.

“Would you like to walk back to the townhome with me? It’s a nice night,” Rhys gently asked.

“I don’t particularly fancy a thousand steps, Rhys.” She looked back at him, masking her annoyance at Cassian as annoyance at his suggestion. He laughed in response.

“Nah, not the stairs. Just the city. You haven’t gotten to see it, yet. Not really. And I’d like you to, just in case something does happen tomorrow.”

She looked up at Rhys, and while she didn’t particularly like the look of concern on his face, she figured she might be able to use the trip to her advantage, so she nodded. He reached out for her hand, and she found herself at the base of the steps. Rhys turned to her.

“Shall we?”

She rolled her eyes and started walking. He shuffled to catch up.

“So this upcoming area is the Market District. It’s wh--”

“Save it, Rhys,” she interrupted him impatiently. “I know you didn’t ask me t0 walk home to give me a tour of the city. What did you want to talk about?”

He snorted in amusement. “Not going to even entertain my facade?”

“If you’re going to stall, just winnow me home instead.” She looked at him in real irritation, still stung by Cassian’s behavior.

He twisted his face, but continued walking alongside her. “I just wanted to say that he’s not opposed to you fighting.”

She laughed harshly and turned to him, eyes widened in incredulity. “Are you kidding me? Well, he sure has a pleasant way of showing his approval. I’d hate to know what it would look like for him to be opposed to something.”

He sighed and downturned his eyes as they walked. “I’m not saying he’s okay with _tomorrow_. He just wants you to be able to defend yourself first–” She gave him a side glare. “–with something other than your words, Nesta.” She rolled her eyes, and he sighed again. “You have powers, and he’s willing to train you in them, and he’s willing to train you in physical fighting. Trust me.” She skeptically shook her head. “I know he’s protective, but he’s no Tamlin. He will fight alongside you on any battlefield once we have time to train you. I’m sending you in tomorrow, because I believe you’ll succeed. And deep down, he believes that too. But he still likes to minimize the risks to those he cares about.”

He paused, assumedly to let her respond, but she was just absorbing for the moment. Her intention tonight was to get as much information on Cassian as possible, and she didn’t want the conversation getting flipped on her. After a minute of silent walking, he began speaking again.

“Feyre was trained intensely for months and was able to use my powers before she aided in any kind of mission. He made that point last night, but he’s not trying to prevent you from fighting ever–”

“Wait.” She broke in and twirled on him. “You guys talked about this last night?” Rhys looked stunned and began to stammer.

“Well yeah, we–”

“I’d like to be winnowed home, now.” Her gaze was sharp. “ _Please_.”

He sucked in his breath and studied her for a moment, but he complied with her request, bringing her to the front door of the townhome. She went inside, shutting the door behind her without looking back. Elain turned to greet her in the living room, but Nesta returned a gentle warning glance, and Elain nodded back as Nesta went upstairs to their room.

“ _Asshole_.” She cursed under her breath as she walked into her room and began getting ready for bed. “Won’t talk to me about anything, but of course he opens up to Rhys about it.” She vented her anger at Cassian in all her actions for the rest of the night, changing into her nightclothes as fast as possible and washing her face roughly. She made sure to be in bed with the lights off before Elain could come upstairs, suddenly glad she’d be in a different Court the following day.

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“Nesta!” Nesta’s face lit up at the sound of Feyre’s voice, and she looked up to see her sister, fit in a flowery dress more suited for Elain, across from her in a strange dining hall. She ran to hug Feyre, but was pulled back. She turned around to see Tamlin grab her from behind, preventing her from seeing her sister.

“Let me see her!” She struggled, but his grip on her was strong. He replied in a low, booming voice.

“You will see her, believe me. We’ve prepared a special event especially for all three of you.”

All three? He didn’t mean… She noticed Elain sitting on a stool in the corner of the room. “Elain! What? How did you get here?!” She startled in panic.

“Relax, Nesta.” Still struggling with Tamlin’s grip, she snapped towards the voice to see Lucien speaking, towering over her sister as he caressed her face with one of his rough hands and stared at her with slanted eyes. “I’ll take good care of your sister.”

“Get away from her!!!!” She was screaming at the top of her lungs by this point. “Stop--” Her breath gave out, and she became completely immobilized mid-air. She watched as Tamlin let go of her and approached Feyre, who cooed at him and coyly embraced him.

Tamlin turned to her. “We just thought you would like to see your sisters _happy_.” He smirked and leaned in to kiss Feyre, who warmly returned the embrace.

“ _Fey---re_!” Her breath returned in gasps, but her lungs throbbed in pain.

“Don’t worry.” Tamlin turned back to match glances with Nesta. “I’ll make sure she’ll die in happiness, Nesta.” She watched in horror as he pulled out his claws and slew her sister. Feyre gasped, choking, and fell over. Tamlin laid her on the ground, blood pooling on the tile floor beneath her, before turning to Nesta with a thin, evil smirk.

“FEYRE!!!!” Her breath fully returned to her, and she screamed and began to cry.

“Me too.” Lucien’s voice caused her attention to snap over to Elain as he grabbed a decorative knife off the dining room table and stabbed her other sister in the stomach.

“ELAIN!!!!” Her sobbing became uncontrollable as she watched the life leave Elain’s eyes, while Lucien gazed on her corpse as he morphed into the King of Hybern, who smiled wickedly.

“Now she’s perfect.”

“NOOOOO!!!!!!” The bonds holding her in the air broke, and she fell to the floor. Tamlin walked over, grinning nastily at her.

“Now it’s your turn, Nesta.” She looked up at him and scrambled back against the wall, bracing herself as she stood back up. She looked frantically around for a weapon and found none as he approached her. “Nesta...Nesta...” he began to chant, and she lunged herself at him, taking him to the ground. She landed a strong punch on his eye.

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“Nesta!! Shit, Nesta, stop!” She struggled on the ground, fighting against her attacker with every bit of her strength. “NESTA!” She landed another blow and his grip released on her. She backed up into the wall with a loud banging noise and blinked her eyes. And found herself standing over Cassian, who was laying on the ground, nursing what looked to be a pretty badly broken nose.

“Wha–what?” she stuttered. She noticed Elain in the corner of the room, who ran to her with a full hug when she realized she had woken up. “Elain! Oh, thank the Cauldron!” Cassian stood up in front of her, and the concern in his eyes made her heart feel like it had shattered all over again in a single motion. “Cassian, I...I’m so...sorry...” His face was beginning to swell, and she was instantly stricken with guilt again. “I’m sorry!” She looked at the floor and broke down in tears, and Elain moved aside so he could swoop in, pulling her to his chest.

“You’re awake now, it’s okay. Shh...” She felt his heart beating strongly against her temple as she continued to cry into his chest. He stroked her hair gently and held her tightly, lightly grazing the tip of her right ear with his breath. They stayed this way until she felt she had cried every tear in her entire body, and she pulled away, unable to look at his face again.

“I’m sorry, Cassi–“

“Don’t apologize.” His forcefulness caught her off-guard, but she continued to focus her gaze on his feet. He brought her into his embrace again and kissed her on top of her head, leading to an unfamiliar warming of her face. “Please don’t apologize. It’s okay. It was just a dream.”

“I...I couldn’t save them, Cassian. I let them die.” She started to cry again, softly.

“You didn’t let anyone die, Nesta. You’ll never let them die.” He didn’t need to ask who she was referring to. “It was just a dream. You’re strong; you can protect them. Everything is okay.”

She backed up against the wall, wiping away the tears from her eyes, bracing herself to survey the damage on his face. She cringed when she saw the blood streaming down from his nose and left eye, but he stepped closer.

“Don’t worry about it.” He grinned at her. “I’ve had to deal with much worse in battle. And I’d gladly trade a broken nose for your healing of my wings.”

His comment brought her to alert, distracting her as he intended. “Your wings! We didn’t put any medicine on today!”

He laughed. “Don’t worry about it. But you’re more than welcome to tomorrow morning, if you want.” He winked at her with strong, but gentle eyes, and this time she met his eye contact and held it. His proximity to her, with her back against the wall, his hands on her hips...her stomach began to swirl and her face heated again. The touch of his arm grazed the skin on hers, and the hair on her limbs pricked. She was aware of every movement between the two of them, every breath they took. Her gaze fell to his lips, and she began to feel heat building up in her stomach. He stepped closer to her, until there was no gap between where her nightgown ended and his tunic began. Her eyes lifted up back to his, and she gasped, finding herself suddenly lost in them. She felt like she could see into his soul; every pain, every emotion of his past flooded through her. Startled, he stepped back and broke their gaze as she reached out, catching only air. And in an instant, the moment ended, and she found herself back in her room, shaking from the dream again. He coughed and looked troubled.

“Is everything okay?” She swallowed hard, still in pain, and his eyes snapped back to her.

“Everything’s fine, sorry. I just...got distracted. I’m sorry.” He looked at her, still concerned, but she noticed he kept a much larger distance. “Can I...show you something?” The vulnerability in his face affected her intensely, and despite everything that had happened that night, all that mattered to her in that moment was affirming his trust in her. She nodded, and he held out his hand to her, which she softly took.

Darkness briefly flashed in front of her, and she walked out on the top of a cliff face, him still clutching her hand. She gasped as she looked over the edge. She could see for miles; the Velaris skyline was certainly gorgeous below her, especially in the Night Court’s starlight, but she could also see the mountainside wind its way around on one side, with forestry seeming to extend endlessly on the other. It was absolutely beautiful. She turned to him to see him looking over the edge as well, and he spoke quietly.

“I used to come here whenever I needed to breathe, whenever I felt overburdened with anxiety. I...I wanted to show you earlier, but...” He looked down as he trailed off, and she tried to catch his gaze. This time, he relented, brushing her hair out of her eyes with his free hand as they locked eyes. “Spend as much time out here tonight as you want. And when you get back from saving your sister–” His use of the word ‘when’ made her smile, and he returned one of his own. “–I’ll take you back here whenever you want. And eventually, you can winnow me out here yourself.” He grinned broadly in confidence towards her, and she leaned in to his chest as she looked out on the city skyline, his hand still intertwined in hers.

She spent the next hour with him like this in complete silence before asking to be winnowed home. And as she laid back into bed and drifted back to sleep, she smiled and felt like peace might, just might have come to her for the first time in a very long time.


	5. Chapter 5

“You sure you’re ready for this?”

Nesta raised her eyes to find Cassian searching her expression and her heart sped up at the imminent winnow. Or at least that’s what she convinced herself it was from. She had woken up early in order to spend the whole morning with him. He hadn’t been as standoffish as he always was, and for her own part, she found herself less inclined to snip at him. He had even made her breakfast and joked with her while she worked on his wings. Whether it was a result of the previous night or her looming mission, she didn’t know, but the experience had felt...pleasant. She was able to relax around him, and though whatever they shared used to scare her, she had allowed herself to be indulged this morning.

“...Hey, Cassian to Nesta; you there?” She snapped back to attention at Cassian’s voice and shook her head, showing off a smug simper.

“Yes, I’ll be fine. If I can handle the queens, I can handle an idiot like Tamlin. Besides–” She tilted her head to the side as she subtly rubbed her knee against the inside of his calf as a reminder. “–I even seem to recall catching you off-guard at the house, if you remember.” Cassian grimaced at the memory of the pain.

“I don’t think I could ever forget that, honestly,” he deadpanned.

“Great! Then you agree I can do this.” She put a hand on her hip and shot him a challenge in her eyes, but he didn’t respond, save for a quick exhale in feigned annoyance, as Morrigan and Rhys winnowed next to them, breaking off their conversation. She made eye contact with Rhys, and he began to speak.

“Everyone knows the plan. We’ll find Feyre and you as soon as possible after we clear our escape route. In a minute or two, Feyre will send me a note giving me the all-clear for Morrigan to winnow us into the library. I’ll count down and we’ll winnow simultaneously. That way, if there’s an issue with Feyre’s cloaking method, we can at least hope to confuse Tamlin’s senses to slow down his identification of Morrigan’s winnow. Not that there’s likely to be an issue–” He looked strongly at Nesta as if to assure her, but she merely sent back a casual look to indicate she was listening. “–but it’s better to be safe. Cassian–” Rhy’s eyes shifted accordingly. “–leave as soon as you hear their guards coming. I want zero chance of you being taken in with Nesta. That is, assuming they don’t just kill you.” Cassian nodded, and Rhys continued. “Everyone ready?” He made eye contact with each person, receiving a strong nod from every direction. “Great. Now we just await the signal.”

Nesta took Cassian’s offered hand as Rhys took Morrigan’s. Despite herself, her heart sped up in anxiety over the coming mission. She took deep breaths in an attempt to calm herself and steel her face, and she looked up at Cassian as she felt him squeeze her hand in reassurance. She nodded, and her attention was shifted to the yellow parchment appearing in Rhys’s free hand. He read it and nodded to the group, holding up five fingers. One by one, he dropped them, and, as his pinky dropped, she felt darkness envelop her before being overwhelmed by bright light and the strong aroma of lilacs and fresh grass. 

She blinked and took a moment to take in her new surroundings, vastly different than she was used to from her time spent in Velaris. Her back was to a beautiful mansion, ivy decorating the sides. The sky was a rich, almost unrealistic blue, and a meadow extended out for miles in every direction, ultimately culminating in a deep forest. For an enemy’s territory, this seemed much too...quaint. It unnerved her. She felt her hand squeezed again by Cassian’s, and she eyed him warily.

“This seems...too simple and nice to be the land of a tyrant.”

Cassian snorted. “You’d be surprised what some people are capable of, when they are too obstinate to listen to those around them, no matter the exterior–” He gestured across the plains as he spoke “–they present. I’m glad your sister was able to leave.” His eyes suddenly shot with pain, and her chest tightened simultaneously. He squeezed her hand tighter and she could see he was slightly shaking. “Just promise me you make it out too.”

She hesitated, her chest twisting in a way she wasn’t used to in response to the pain on his face, and in that moment of uncertainty, her reply was stolen by the loud thud of what she assumed to be the castle doors being thrown open. His eyes watered, though she could tell he was trying to avoid her seeing it, and he attempted to pull his hand free to winnow home. She instinctively gripped back, and his eyes widened. Adrenaline soared through her, and before she could stop herself, her body moved of its own accord. She released his hand in order to throw her arms around his neck, erasing the distance between them, and in one swift motion, she pulled his head lower to meet his lips with her own. Rushes flew through her body like strong tides, leaving a calm, reassuring energy in their wake as he met her embrace. She felt the base of his hands brace the curve of her hips as he pulled her tighter into the kiss, heat washing through her body. She felt like she could lose herself in his taste, and her body craved more. His smell, _he_ was the only thought on her mind.

Until she felt the arrow whizz by.

Startled, they broke apart and spun to find Tamlin, Lucien, and no small army of guards standing not ten meters from them. A smashed bow laid on the ground next to the castle, and Tamlin grabbed one of his soldier’s arms in rage.

“YOU IDIOT! Feyre’s sister is in line of the shot!” he growled as the soldier scurried away from the front of the group in fear. Tamlin turned back to the two of them with murderous eyes and let out a threatening roar at Cassian. “Let her go, Cassian. If you do, I may consider sparing your life.”

Nesta instinctively maneuvered herself to be directly in front of Cassian, as she felt his chest rumble with his response. “Tamlin, I mean no harm. I brought her here to protect her from Rhysand. I’m not here for any other reason.”

Tamlin made a terrifying noise as he inhaled and exhaled in his beast form, eyes still raging, and Nesta gripped Cassian’s tunic as she formulated a plan. She felt Cassian still in response to her touch. “Even if I were to believe that, _kidnapper_ , you still must answer for the Night Court’s mistreatment of my fiancée. You are not free to leave.” Nesta’s stomach twisted at the word _fiancée_ – as if her sister would ever marry this man – and at the threat laid at Cassian’s feet.

Nesta’s eyes flashed for a brief second as she realized a plan, but she put on a pained face as she turned her attention to Tamlin, gripping Cassian’s tunic tighter behind her. “Please...please help me.” She reached inside for every wound, every scar in her life, and she presented it to the Spring Court High Lord on a silver platter with her eyes. “It...” Her voice trailed off and her eyes dipped lower, focusing out, as Tamlin’s eyes softened.

“It’s okay,” Tamlin took a big step closer, and she had to will every muscle of her body not to step back away from him as he did. She pushed Cassian softly but imperceptibly to the guards ahead and tried to communicate her message nonverbally. He gripped the back of her dress, and she hoped he understood her plan. “We won’t harm you, I promise. Feyre will be happy to see you.” He attempted a smile, and Nesta stilled her gut reaction to vomit. “It’s Nesta, right?” She nodded quietly, and he took another step closer. Another step, and he would be able to touch her. She readied herself. He reached his arm out, and she looked at him with the innocent wariness of a wounded animal as she shook and approached him.

Cassian pulled back on her at that moment, understanding her perfectly. She spun her elbow and side into him, acting like she was trying to break his grip, but positioning herself between him and the archers as he fell backwards. He winnowed before he hit the ground, and she sighed in relief before being grabbed from behind by Tamlin’s arms. Every instinct in her told her to struggle, but she managed to turn it into a convincing shudder, and she turned her fake, pained expression back on him.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you. You’re here, you’re safe.” His beast form’s breath was rancid on her collar and watered her eyes. The instinct to run hit her again, but she forced herself to still in his arms. She felt his eyes move over the bruises on her body, strongly shown through the dress that was partly torn from her fight with Morrigan, and she pushed back her urge to gag. “Lucien!” he bellowed. “Get her to Alis immediately. I’ll go and personally notify Feyre. As for _you_ –” He swung her around with himself as he pointed to the soldier who had fired the initial arrow. She saw Lucien quickly rushing to her. “–I will personally deal with you later.” Tamlin released Nesta into Lucien’s arms and walked off with the rest of his guard. 

Lucien looked her over with concern, although she couldn’t tell if it was genuine or not, and he covered her shoulders with his coat. “I know this is a lot for you to take in.” Lucien spoke softly as he gestured for her to walk with him, although he kept a respectful distance. She eyed him carefully, making sure to maintain her disguise, but willfully followed. “I don’t know what happened, and you don’t need to tell anyone here anything you don’t want to.” He gave her a quick look – she felt to make sure she was still following more than anything else – before continuing. “But you’ll be safe here. We will treat you well. Anything you need, just ask Alis or myself, and we will make sure you get it.”

Nesta quietly listened and studied him as they walked. Sensing her reluctance to speak, Lucien gave a guide of the landscape on the way back around to the front of the mansion. As they approached the front of the mansion, the doors swung open, and Nesta couldn’t keep herself from jumping back in shock at the woman who stood in the doorway, skin covered in what looked to be wood. The wood woman acted surprised before softening her eyes.

“My apologies, child. I forgot you did not have experience with people of my kind. Had I remembered, I would’ve glamoured myself for you beforehand. My name is Alis.” Alis curtseyed. “Tamlin told me of your arrival. It is nice to meet you. Please, let me get you cleaned up and I’ll take you to see your sister.” She smiled a kind smile, and Nesta looked back and forth between the two of them. This time, she didn’t have to fake her reaction as she moved towards Alis’s waiting arms. She didn’t understand how either of these two people could involve themselves with someone like Tamlin or be okay with what Tamlin had allowed to happen to Elain and her. But she put aside her questions for now, allowing Alis to guide her through the large mansion as she awaited the next phase of her mission.

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Feyre waited in the Spring Court library, frustrated she was idling her time reading one of Tamlin’s books. She had expected to be briefed by Rhysand on how Azriel and Amren were distracting Tamlin, but Rhys had almost immediately left, saying that he wanted to inform her, but that it would help if she was genuinely surprised. She knew he meant it differently than Tamlin did – whereas Tamlin was possessive and controlling with information, Rhys would have told her had she insisted – but it was still irritating to wait there endlessly without information while her mate was risking his life.

About fifteen minutes after Rhys left, a knock on the library doors came to her great relief. She flung the doors open to see Tamlin in front of her, dressed in nice clothing and holding a bouquet behind his back. She shifted her eyes in confusion.

“Tamlin...! Hi!” He let out a soft growl as he put the bouquet in her hands and leaned in to kiss her. She felt a great deal of nausea – this was her least favorite part of playing the spy – but she quickly returned the kiss and gently pushed him back with one hand, maintaining it on his chest in separation. Rhys must have sensed her discomfort, as he sent a soothing rhythm along their mating bond, and she smiled, tugging back in anticipation of the things she had planned for her return to Velaris.

“I have a gift for you.” Tamlin smiled back at her, misinterpreting her pleasure being directed at him.

“I see that. They’re beautiful, Tamlin.” She looked at the bouquet and smelled it, looking up at him with coy eyes, but he shook his head.

“No, I have another present in addition to that.” He grinned. “We rescued your sister.” Her face fell in genuine shock and she felt her heart stop.

“Wh-what? How, Tamlin?” she stuttered in disbelief. “Elain?” Video of Lucien’s constant questions about Elain after Hybern flashed through her head. She was going to have a _very_ harsh word with Rhys later about the usage of her sister as bait. She sent a strong pulse down their mating bond, and Rhys returned a sheepish apology.

“No. Though we have plans to save her soon enough, don’t you worry Feyre.” Her eyes perked up at his slip of information. “But that’s not important right now. What’s important is that Nesta is safe and that your sister and you are reunited.”

“How did you get her, Tamlin?” She was sure this was part of Rhys’s plan, but she had to make sure. He blinked a few times, then his expression fell.

“I don’t understand, Feyre. Are you not happy she’s here? I thought...you’d be happy we got your sister back.”

Feyre cursed internally. She didn’t want to waste time, but...she supposed she had no other choice. She looked up at Tamlin softly and with assurance. “Of course I am, Tam. Thank you.” He smiled again. “I just want to make sure she’s okay. That she wasn’t harmed in the process. That’s all.”

He shook his head. “No, no, not by us. Though...” Her heart nearly stopped in her chest when he trailed off on this qualification, and he gave her the look that she knew well meant he was contemplating not telling her. “Well, I guess you’ll see anyway, so I might as well prepare you. They treated her horribly, Feyre. She was hurt and bruised everywhere. And she could barely speak.” Feyre couldn’t respond; she trusted Rhys with her life, with anything. She knew that he would never harm her, but...she needed to see Nesta immediately.

“How did you get her here? Can I see her?”

“The Illyrian whose wings got damaged brought her here.” She frowned at the callousness with which he spoke about Cassian’s injury, as if it was simply a stubbed toe or flesh wound. “Claims he brought her here to protect her, but the bastard ultimately used her as a shield from our bows in order to escape.” He frowned at her, and she wondered if he was deliberately avoiding her second question. She decided to try to approach the topic in a different manner and scoffed, exhaling in faux anger.

“Sounds like the Night Court. How horrible. I’m so glad you got me out of there, Tamlin. It’s such a terrible place...I can’t even imagine what they’ve done to her. Or Elain. Thank you for helping her.” His face lit up at her pretend gratitude, and she used the moment to push. “Can we invite her to join us for lunch? I’m sure she’s starving for food, and I’d like to see her.” She smiled in innocent care for her sister, and his smile grew.

“I don’t see why not. I’ll have Alis bring her by. It’ll be our first family meal.” He smiled broadly and gestured with his arm. “I was actually going to go for a walk around the grounds before this. Would you like to come with me and we can inform the kitchen staff together on the way?” 

Feyre gently smiled back and took his arm, shielding her internal wave of questions and emotions from her expression. “Of course.”

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“Tsk, tsk.” Alis looked over Nesta’s body as she ruffled through a large assortment of dresses in the guest room closet. Nesta had been brought straight here after entering the castle, though she had tried to memorize as much of the castle layout as she could in case of an emergency situation. She studied the motherly maid, who was already comparing a few outfits in the air against her. Alis seemed like...what Nesta’s first impression of the Spring Court had been: peaceful and serene, kind and comfortable. She suddenly wished she wasn’t undercover, as she wanted to ask a million questions of this woman. But for now, she had to keep the charade up, so she kept her eyes downcast and troubled and reverted to focusing on all the various traumas of her life.

“Dear, how does this work for you?” She raised her gaze to see Alis holding up a light green dress, a strong match for the castle’s greenery, with a high collar and low, fluffed base to cover up almost all of her bruising. In truth, it wasn’t her style of dress, but it reminded her so much of Elain that she couldn’t help but show a faint smile on her face. Misinterpreting the smile as approval, Alis gave her the dress to change into and worked on finding her matching shoes and accessories as she motioned to the attached washroom for Nesta to get cleaned up in first.

Nesta stood up and opened her mouth, but thought better about it. She would keep up the act for Feyre’s sake, but she wanted to avoid lying to this woman as much as she could. She walked into the washroom to the warm bath Alis had already run for her, wrapped the dress carefully along the towel rack, undressed, and got into the bath. The warm water felt smooth on her bruised skin, and she could tell Alis had run a little lotion through the water to soothe her skin further. She heard Alis call out from the other room.

“Tamlin told me one of the Illyrians brought you here.” She caught her breath in her chest; she didn’t like talking about Cassian to members of the Night Court, let alone here. Alis must have caught her hesitation from the bedroom, as she kept speaking. “Dear, you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to. I’m just making conversation. I want you to feel safe talking about anything with me, but I will never ask you to talk about anything you aren’t comfortable with.” The warmth in her voice relaxed Nesta, and she decided that she was going to have to talk about the Night Court eventually to avoid suspicion. It was likely better for her to start with truths.

“No, it’s...okay,” she replied quietly as she began to wash herself. “Yes. His name is Cassian.”

“Well, I’m glad you had someone like him watching out for you there. I’m sure Tamlin will be lenient with him in the future considering his helping you escape.”

The arrow flying past Nesta’s head flashed through her head and she rolled her eyes, though she kept her voice a plain, hushed tone. “I hope so. He isn’t like...the rest of the Night Court.” She pushed the pain she had been drawing from into the end of her sentence, in order to sell her story better without having to go into details she hadn’t worked out yet.

“Yes.” She heard Alis opening a trunk from the far side of the bedroom and allowed her expression to relax further, closing her eyes so she could fully enjoy the bath. “Most Fae would rather risk their lives than see even a single bit of real harm come to their mates.” Nesta’s eyes flew open, but she kept quiet. “You were quite fortunate to have him with you during your captivi...your time there.”

Nesta tried to force a response back, to keep the conversation going, but images were flooding through her mind uncontrollably, and she shut her eyes tightly and attempted to calm her thoughts. She couldn’t be his mate.

_His lips upon her neck at her father’s house._ It wasn’t possible.

_His strong objection to her coming here._ No, no, no.

_How she had felt when he comforted her after her nightmare the night before._ Did he know?

_The rest of the night looking upon the Velarian skyline._ Of course he knew. He’d always known.

_How she had felt when she kissed him._ Hell, _she’d_ always known. She covered her face with her arms and went underwater to push the realization out. She couldn’t face it; she couldn’t be anyone’s mate. She couldn’t let the Fae world take her agency away like that. No, no...

She felt herself be pulled out of the bath by Alis, and she stared back with real fear in her eyes. Alis sat her down on her legs and covered her with a towel, her own eyes enveloped in strong worry. “I’m so sorry, Nesta. I didn’t mean to mention what you’ve been through.” Nesta felt the tiniest relief at Alis misunderstanding her anxiety as trauma, but her eyes retained a genuine hollow. Alis kneeled down in front of her. “Would you like to be alone today?” Nesta looked up and shook her head softly. She couldn’t let this throw off the plan.

“Please, no. Please...let me see Feyre.”

Alis studied her for a few moments, and she was about to reply when a knock came to the bedroom door. She eyed Nesta as she opened it, cracked. She heard a voice, male, from the other side of the door.

“Tamlin sends a request for the young lady to be escorted to lunch.” Alis looked sharply back at Nesta, then concentrated her attention through the door crack.

“Yes, of course, but she just finished with her bath. Please wait a moment for her to be dressed and for her hair to be dried.”

“Certainly.”

Alis shut the door in response, and knelt back in front of Nesta with concern. “Are you sure you want to do this now? I can try to stall.”

Nesta shook her head. “No, please let me see her. I’ll...I’ll be fine.” She suddenly found effort unnecessary to show pain in her voice. Alis gave her one last, hard look, before drying her hands on one of the towels on the towel rack and standing up.

“Well then, we need to get you dressed. Come on.” She smiled at Nesta and Nesta slowly stood up as well, taking deep breaths. She wasn’t going to let this throw off the mission; she still needed to help her sister. She dried herself with the towel Alis had given her, and, with Alis’s help, quickly put on the dress Alis had picked out for her. Alis tsked at her hair and began upbraiding it. “I wish I could do more with your hair, but I thought we had more time.”

“It’s fine, really.” Nesta wondered if this had been Feyre’s life when she had first arrived at the Spring Court. 

Alis scoffed. “It’s not. But tomorrow morning I will make up for it.” She looked in the mirror to meet Nesta’s eyes and smiled in comfort. “Okay?”

Despite herself, a small smile was brought to Nesta’s face by the woman’s warmth, though her chest still hurt from thinking about Cassian. “Sure.”

Alis’s smile grew, and she went back to work finishing Nesta’s updo. She spun Nesta around in inspection and turned, satisfied, back towards the bedroom. “I got you some elbow-length gloves to match your dress and hide the bruises on your arms for now, so you could avoid answering any uncomfortable questions from Feyre until you were ready to do so. And I pulled a few different shoes for you to pick from.” Nesta sat down and picked out a thin pair of silver heels, and she heard Alis speak from behind her as she fastened a matching necklace. “You and your sister are so beautiful, you know.” She swung around to Nesta’s front as Nesta finished getting dressed, and she smiled broadly. “Inside and out.” Her eyes met Nesta’s with a strong kindness, then she slapped her knees and walked towards the door, opening it. “Now come; Feyre awaits!”

As Nesta walked out to the waiting guard, who was motioning to the hall ahead, she turned back one last time to Alis, wishing she could take her back to Velaris with Feyre.

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“Nesta!!!”

Nesta’s eyes widened in a pleasure successfully kept from the rest of her face as she saw Feyre running to her as she entered the dining hall. She was quickly enveloped by her sister in a big hug, wanting to savor it but deciding to use the time more wisely. She analyzed the room as she hugged back; it was much larger than she had imagined in her nightmare. Decorative floral arrangements and paintings lined the walls, with several large window panes providing a view to the meadow outside. There were only two entryways: the one she came from and one that led to a room she had no view of, as of yet. Tamlin stood at attention across the table from the two of them, eying her.

Feyre pulled back from their hug, and Nesta studied her sister’s eyes. No hint of treachery or alternative motive met her – only a simple look of happiness as her sister interlocked their arms and led her to the dining room table to sit down together. Nesta gave Feyre credit; she definitely had the spy work cut out for her, though she supposed it was only fitting that the High Lady of the Night Court be able to cloak her true self at any given notice. If Nesta didn’t know better, Feyre would’ve convinced her that she liked being a consort.

“Waiters!” As she sat down, Tamlin bellowed in the direction of the second entryway, where her back was now facing. Must be the kitchen, she thought. Tamlin took the seat across from the two of them and gave a soft, hopeful smile in her direction. “I’ve spared no expense for this lunch. I want it to be special for the both of you.”

She returned a smile, though it was hard to hold down the urge to roll her eyes. Was she supposed to be impressed that he had money? That he had power over these servants? She questioned why Feyre was ever involved with this man, though that inquiry would have to wait for later.

The food arrived at the table, and Tamlin hadn’t been kidding. Rows and rows of food aligned the table, of all different flavors and styles. She gasped at the sheer...waste of it all, knowing that the vast majority would likely end up being tossed. An anger filled her core, remembering the days they almost starved, save for the grace of her sister, while Tamlin thought nothing of throwing away all of this food in some pathetic attempt at flattery of the immediate family member of his ‘beloved.’

“Is something wrong? I can have something else made if you want.” She looked at Tamlin and realized she must have slipped and shown her discomfort on her face. Feyre gripped her arm tightly, and she willed tears onto her face, easy to do considering her current thought process.

“No, it’s just...it’s so much. No one’s ever done anything like this for me before. Thank you. Thank you so much.” And she let herself weep out real memories: the shame of her treatment of her sisters, the hurt she couldn’t shake from Tomas, the anger at her failure to save Elain from Ianthe. When she finally raised her eyes, she found her sister looking at her with a sympathetic disquiet. Tamlin’s eyes softened, and she hated that she was letting herself be so vulnerable in front of such a patronizing man. But she _would_ save her sister, no matter what. She sniffled and smiled back softly. “Thank you.” She grabbed a plate and started loading it with food, determined to make as much of the food go to use as possible.

“What do you think of the Spring Court? We have stables, gardens, anything you might want to do.” He gestured through the glass windows behind him, and she wondered if even the seating arrangements had been planned for this lunch. “I’m sure Feyre can show you around the grounds tomorrow, if you would like.”

Her sister and she exchanged warm glances, and she turned back to Tamlin. She spoke in a quiet voice, feigning lingering distress from the morning, still letting tears fall intermittently. “I’d like that.” Tamlin’s smile broadened, and he started loading his own plate.

“Let’s eat, shall we?”

Starving, she dug into her food and allowed Feyre to dominate Tamlin’s attention the rest of the lunch. Afterwards, he dismissed her request to bring some extra food to her room, assuring her more would be made for dinner. She narrowed her eyes as soon as she was out of his line of sight. One day, soon, she would join Feyre in giving this idiot what he deserved. But for today, just for today, she could play the role of the saved to his savior, the puppet for him to dangle in front of Feyre as his big achievement.

She didn’t speak to Tamlin again the rest of the day, maintaining her pretense of the shy, traumatized girl. In fact, she avoided him so successfully that he apparently forgot to notify her of dinner, as an apologetic Alis relayed to her room with a tray full of food. Which she appreciated, if it meant he didn’t host such an extravagant feast again.

It was fairly late in the evening by the time she received a knock on her bedroom door. She opened it, expecting to see Rhys and Morrigan, but Feyre greeted her instead. She moved aside to let her sister in and shut the door behind her. Feyre plopped on the bed and crossed her legs, spreading her arms out for Nesta to give her a hug. Nesta sat down on the bed and leaned backwards into her sister, who wrapped her hands around her stomach and put up a shield of darkness around them.

Feyre must have noticed her curiosity at the shield, as she laughed quietly. “It will keep our conversation from being overheard, Nesta.” Nesta felt her sister squeeze her, and she smiled an actual smile for the first time that day. Well, besides...her stomach tanked again at the thought of Cassian, and her smile was gone as quickly as it had appeared.

“I just want to get back, please.”

“We will, don’t worry.” Feyre’s voice was soothing in her ear, though it suddenly turned into a quick suction of breath. Her sister turned her around and she found herself face-to-face with a very strong look of consternation. “We’ll need to talk about you being part of this mission later though. I can’t believe Rhys let you act as a piece of bait for Tamlin...” 

Although the words came out harshly, Nesta knew that this was just Feyre’s way of asking what had happened. She relayed Amren and Azriel’s trip to the Day Court and their subsequent shortage of people to send in, though she left out Cassian’s involvement in the process, only mentioning he winnowed her in. When she finished, Feyre sighed and dipped her head.

“I guess it ultimately doesn’t matter, does it? We’re all safe now, right? We just need to wait for Rhys and Mor. I sent him an image of your room down our mating bond, so he’d know where to find us.” The mention of the mating bond dug another knife into Nesta, and she didn’t bother to hide it, done with playing a role for the day. “Hey...” She lifted Nesta’s face up to hers. “What’s going on with you? I know this lunch wasn’t entirely an act.”

Nesta avoided her gaze. Knowing that Feyre wouldn’t let up without some kind of answer, she dodged the actual question by talking out her current pain. “Alis told me that Cassian was my mate.” Feyre leaned back in surprise at her reply, but she continued. “I don’t know why she thinks that, and I don’t know for sure that he knows, but...” She sighed and closed her eyes. “I’m pretty sure I know.” She opened her eyes and saw Feyre appraising her tone with a quieted breath. Feyre thought carefully before speaking.

“But...Tamlin told me he found you two...” Her eyes sharply widened. “That wasn’t part of–“

“No, no.” She interrupted her sister with assurance. “That was real. I just...I didn’t know I was kissing my mate. It’s different, you know?” She scrunched the fabric of her comforter in her hand, trying to avoid eye contact again. “Like I don’t have a choice anymore. Everything’s decided for me. Before...I felt like I could choose him. Now I feel I’m being pushed – forced – into accepting him. I don’t like that. I don’t want to be with him because it’s meant to be. I want to be with a person that I _choose_ to be with.”

“It’s a hard concept to adjust to at first,” Feyre admitted, “but no one can force you to do anything you don’t want to, Nesta. You’ve always been a strong woman; you’ve always made your own choices. Whether or not you end up with Cassian _will be_ your choice. You can decide for yourself whether to accept it or not. Besides–” Nesta felt Feyre lean in and whisper in her ear for emphasis. “–if it helps, Rhys didn’t tell me about our mating bond, either.”

Nesta sucked in her breath. Was that what she was most upset about? Feeling she was tricked into it? But Cassian...she knew Cassian would never do something like that. She kept quiet and let Feyre finish her response. Feyre leaned back, smiling her annoyingly knowing smile.

“Spent several days locked up by myself in a cabin in the mountains that Morrigan brought me to. He eventually tracked me down, but needless to say, I was very angry that I had to learn it from a Suriel.”

Nesta viewed her sister out of the corner of her eye in skepticism. “A...squirrel?” Feyre let out a short laugh, then caught herself at Nesta’s resulting glare.

“No, a...never mind. Just it wasn’t him.” Nesta shook her head; she was never going to get used to all the different creatures in Prythian. “But listen...if I’ve ever met someone who respects you, it’s Cassian. I don’t know why he wouldn’t tell you if he knew, and it doesn’t make it right that he didn’t, but he’d have to have a damn good reason not to.”

“Like I care.” She feigned irritation at her sister sticking up for him.

Feyre pressed. “You didn’t see him when he returned from visiting you at our house across the barrier. He had to have a _really_ good reason not to mention it. Be angry if you want – and I understand you being angry – but at least hear him out.”

Nesta looked her sister’s expression up and down. “What didn’t I see?”

“I thought you didn’t care?” Feyre smirked and Nesta’s glare returned to her face. “Fine, fine. He was crazy aggressive in our training sessions. I’ve never seen him push himself that strongly. And...” She leaned in close to Nesta’s face again, who backed away instinctively. “...he told me to mind my own business when I asked about you, and he wouldn’t talk to me the rest of the day. Believe he said our family was ‘full of know-it-all females?’” Feyre leaned back in satisfaction. “I don’t know what you guys said when he visited, but clearly, you got under his skin.”

Nesta didn’t respond except to stare at the wall in silence for awhile, and Feyre got the hint, dropping the conversation and laying on the bed in her wait for Morrigan and Rhys. She had been in a mood herself after Cassian left his final visit. Part of her had longed for his lips to return to her neck, and part of her had wished the moment had never happened. She wasn’t able to get him off her thoughts for days, and she had vented at everything and everyone. She was pretty sure Elain had actually paid off the maids to put up with her irritation. Feyre was so comfortable with Rhys, but Feyre also enjoyed being Fae. Would she feel the same way if she relaxed with Cassian, or would she fall victim to the restraints of the mating bond, unable to escape it?

Her thoughts broke through mid-way, however, at the knock on the door. Feyre jumped up. “Told you,” she winked at Nesta, before dropping her shield and answering the door.

To Tamlin.

Both Tamlin and Feyre took steps backwards in surprise. “Tamlin! How are you?” Feyre quickly contorted her face back into a welcoming embrace. Nesta merely gave a weak smile.

“I...What are you doing here?” His voice was low and, were it not directed at Feyre, Nesta would’ve sworn threatening. He looked between the two of them.

“Tam, my sister literally just showed up here after a really rough five weeks, and I haven’t seen her personally in months, over a year when you consider I was being controlled by Rhysand. I was just catching up with and checking up on her.” He eyed Feyre angrily, and Nesta felt for her sister. A rough five weeks indeed. Feyre dropped the smile to a look of unease. “Is something wr–“

“You need to leave. Now.” Tamlin stepped in the room and out of the doorway to let Feyre pass.

“Tam–“

“ _Now_.” Tamlin growled. “I’ll escort you back to your room. Your sister needs her rest.”

Feyre gave a final glance at Nesta. _Can you hear me? Shift your eyes if so._ Nesta blinked sharply at the voice inside her head, but shifted her eyes subtly accordingly. A slight sense of relief came over Feyre’s face as she acquiesced to Tamlin’s request, and he followed her out, closing the door behind him. Suddenly, Nesta’s vision was replaced with that of another, standing in front of Tamlin.

“Watch this room, and don’t let anyone in.” Her vision swung to her left at a guard who nodded, then back at Tamlin. But...she wasn’t moving her head. She gasped, but no sound came out. _She was in Feyre’s mind_. She watched as Tamlin started walking away from her room.

“Tamlin, I don’t think this is nec–“

“What do you think you were doing?” He turned in rage to her sister and, noticing she wasn’t following him voluntarily, grabbed her arm and started dragging her through the hall. She felt her sister’s rage rise accordingly, though Feyre’s words came out calm and collected.

“I told you, Tam. I just wanted to help talk things out with her.” Feyre struggled a bit, but Nesta realized she couldn’t break free without using her powers and blowing her cover. “She’s not doing well.”

“I know.” He looked back at her and his tone eased slightly, though he kept pulling her with him. “But she has valuable information, and I can’t risk her internalizing it before I can talk to her.”

“Excuse me?” The words shot out of Feyre’s mouth immediately before she could catch them, and Tamlin almost roared back. She felt Feyre doing...something that she couldn’t quite identify, and Tamlin’s face calmed a bit. Feyre steadied herself. “I know you want to help Elain, Tamlin, but Nesta’s my sister too. I don’t want her used as intel.”

Tamlin pulled her the final way to a room in the opposite wing and opened the door for her. Nesta assumed it was Feyre’s room. He turned to her. “I’ll do what I need to do in order to stop him.” And Nesta felt him push Feyre into her room, the door shutting behind her. The vision broke, and Nesta found herself sweating in her room, still sitting on her bed in the same position as she was left. She had gauged her room earlier when she was with Alis. She knew the only exit route other than her door was her window. She rushed to it to find, to her dismay, that the drop was several stories. If she fell, she didn’t know if she could survive. She opened the window and looked outside in both directions. There was a ledge – it was very thin, but with her Fae balance...

She looked back at the door, where she knew Tamlin would come in through at any moment. She needed to get out, soon. Maybe she could still reach Feyre if she could get onto the roof; her sister had mentally shown her the route to her room, after all. And it was only a few meters from her windowsill to the mansion’s rooftop. She held her breath in anxiety, took off her heels, and stepped out onto the ledge. She cringed at the coldness of the ledge at night against her bare feet, though she thanked the wind for choosing to blow the correct direction, helping her hold herself against the side of the mansion. Step by step, she slid along the ledge.

She was a few steps from freedom when she felt herself grabbed from above by strong arms, a hand covering her mouth to prevent her from screaming out, and everything went black.


	6. Chapter 6

Feyre stood up, shaking, and immediately went for the door handle. It stung to her touch, and she recoiled in pain. She could tell her mental connection to Nesta had broken, and she spun in panic. She went for her window, but the same pain hit her, stronger this time. She fell to the ground, feeling the pulse of the silent, negative energy carrying through her body in dissipation, like an electric shock. The dresser kicked open and she spun on her feet, despite the pain, to combat the intruders.

She found Rhys moving quickly to her in concern, Mor staring in stunned silence.

“Feyre, hold up.” Rhys’s voice was at a hushed whisper as he doted over her, but found no physical injuries. Feyre pushed him off her and ran back to the door again before he could stop her, attempting to shoulder it down. As she hit the door, she felt it give slightly, before pain erupted in her body and she got shot straight back, losing consciousness as she landed in Rhys’s arms.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Oh, thank the Cauldron.” Feyre heard a muffled, female voice as her vision spun back into view. Her skin crawled in intermittent pains as she sat up, a strong hand on her back supporting her. She looked to her right to see Rhys sitting on the bed with her, with Morrigan standing at the foot of the bed, eyes stricken with worry. “How do you feel?”

“I...what is this?” She had never experienced a power like the one pulsing through her skin before. Rhys and Morrigan exchanged glances, then both of them concentrated their attentions back on her.

“We were hoping you could tell us, Feyre.” Rhys had a strong grimace on his face, and Feyre’s stomach sank in disbelief.

“You mean neither of you have seen something like this in 500 years?” Morrigan shifted on her feet in frustration, and Rhys’s face twisted more. He opened his mouth to speak, but as her consciousness fully returned to her, so did her memories, and she cut him off. “We need to get Nesta!” Rhys gripped her back as a caution, and she turned to him in confusion.

“My powers don’t work, Feyre.”

She let out an incredulous laugh, but the serious look on his face quickly turned hers sour. She looked at Morrigan, whose face was similarly despondent. “...How?”

“We don’t know.” Her attention turned back to Rhys. “But my powers are completely useless. Mor can still use hers, _at least for now_ –” Feyre’s neck bristled at his emphasis. “–but we’ve been stuck in this room. Whatever is preventing you from leaving is also preventing us from doing the same. Neither Morrigan nor I can touch any of the walls of this room or any of the exitways without interacting with the barrier. The only area we can access other than here is your washroom, but the walls there are covered with the same invisible shield. Even your closet is inaccessible. Morrigan _might_ be able to winnow out, but I obviously can’t shield her departure, and considering the ramifications that situation might have for Nesta, neither of us felt it right to make that decision without your input.”

Feyre sat completely up and pushed her back fully against the backrest of her bed. She raised her hand in front of her and commanded fire to come forth. But nothing happened, and she didn’t even feel the tiniest stirring in her body. She got up and ran to her bathroom, turning on the sink and commanding the water to part from the faucet onto the marble counters. But the water poured straight down the drain. If it weren’t for the mirror and her Fae senses, she would’ve believed it if she was told she was human again. She splashed water on her face to try to clear her head and turned off the sink. Walking back into the bedroom, she made eye contact with both members of her Court.

“How long was I out?”

“Four hours.” Morrigan answered immediately, and Feyre groaned. Any things she could’ve immediately done for her sister were surely not options by this point. She could only hope that the worst in Tamlin had not come out that night.

“Okay, so that makes it...1 AM here. In six hours, Tamlin is leading a deputation. I don’t know what Court he’s going to, but I know he’s anxious about it. If anything, he will leave early. We can have Morrigan winnow out unshielded to find Nesta about a half hour later. It will set off alarms, but even without our powers, Rhys and I should be able to handle any of Tamlin’s guards who come to my room. I’m sure they’re under orders not to harm me, so worst case scenario I can just stall while Mor gets Amren and Azriel, after they return from the Day Court, to help us get out of this situation.” She looked at Rhys, surprise lit on his face at her knowledge of Amren and Azriel. “Nesta told me about your meetings. Does the plan sound good?”

He shrugged and smiled back at her waiting expression. “Your area of expertise, darling. I’ve spent as little time in this Court as I possibly could manage in my lifetime. I trust you.” He looked at her inquisitively to see if she was done speaking, and she nodded. “Can you tell us what happened with Nesta though? Why isn’t she here with you?”

She opened her mouth to reply, then changed her mind. “It’d be better if you just watch it.” She opened her mental shields, which she thankfully found to still be intact, but he stared at her harder as her heart sunk. She closed the doorway to her mind she had opened. “We’ve lost our daemati powers, too?” As she spoke, she attempted to check his shields, but she felt nothing. Where her body felt power flow before, there was only silence. Worrying silence. He sighed deeply.

“Feyre...I can’t even feel our mating bond.”

Her stomach plummeted at his words, and she frantically checked to find that she, too, was missing the familiar cord tethering her to Rhys. “Did it...”

“No.” He looked at her firmly. “It would take more than a simple spell, strong as this one may be, to break a mating bond...let alone our mating bond, Feyre. And besides, even if it did–” He walked up to her and kissed her gently, as Morrigan rolled her eyes in pretend annoyance. “–we’d just get to build it again.” He kissed her again, and memories of their mountain cabin trip flooded through her mind. He pulled away and she bit her lip, looking up at him. A wolfish grin appeared on his face. “We _do_ have six and a half hours to kill, you know.”

Morrigan sighed and interrupted. “As much as I would just _love_ to bear witness to this wonderful display of intimacy–” The two of them looked at her embarrassedly. “–it’s important you explain what happened tonight while it’s still fresh in your mind, Feyre. Then I’ll leave you two to it.” Feyre raised an eyebrow. “Believe me, I resigned myself to sleeping in the bathtub as soon as I realized I was stuck in here with you two.”

Feyre laughed, and it felt good to have that brief moment of distraction from the distress she felt towards her sister. She just hoped Nesta used the information she was able to give her well. She sat down on the bed and explained her entire day’s sequence of events after they had left her in the library. When she was finished, Morrigan moved to walk to the washroom, but Feyre caught her with her gaze. “Wait.” Morrigan looked over her shoulder. “Why Nesta? Why not just wait to get me?”

“Because, Feyre darling–” She felt Rhys wrap his arms around her waist, pull her into him, and breathe in her ear, causing her stomach to twirl. She waved off a laughing Morrigan, who left the room, shutting the washroom door behind her. “–Cassian was going to give up his wings to ensure we got you out as soon as possible.” He kissed along her neck as he spoke, and she leaned and arched her back to allow him better access. “And I’ve heard a strong rumor that Fae females quite like their mate’s wings. They do correspond to certain other areas of the body, as you know.” He pulled her tighter to his body so she could feel him, solid, against her, and she shuddered in expectation at the night. “Besides–” He spun her around, and she pushed against his side with her knees as he met her lips. “–you just can’t say no to an Archeron woman. They tend to get what they want, after all.” His hands toyed with the base of her dress, pooled on the bed around her hips.

“Oh?” The twinkle in her eyes unlocked something in his expression, and she reached up to let him pull off her dress. “Is that so?” She kissed him more deeply, tongue meeting his in a strong passion.

“Mm.” He murmured through their kiss, before he pulled back to gaze in hunger up and down her body, savoring every moment of his view. He met her eyes again and taunted her. “Why don’t you find out?”

She narrowed her eyes in acceptance of the challenge and brought him flat against the bed as her lips met his again, and she gave in to the desire building in her core.

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Azriel sat in the House of Winds conference room, chin cupped in his hands in consideration as he studied the man across the table from him, face crumpled in anxiety on the table. When Amren and he had returned from the Day Court, they’d found Cassian a wreck, pacing this room, rambling in panic about the rest of the Court’s absence. Azriel had volunteered to wait with him for the Night Court so Amren could sleep, a duty he knew full well meant more ensuring Cassian didn’t do anything stupid. Still…

Azriel turned his head to the sunlight brightening up the eastern portion of the conference room. He was no stranger to missions being delayed by unexpected developments, but 24 hours for a simple extraction was worrying. And if they didn’t get back soon... He sighed. This was not his preferred partner, but considering the territory...

“Cassian.” 

The other Illyrian’s face lifted up and Azriel looked at the tired but determined eyes that stared back.

“I have to leave to intercept a shipment. I could use your help.”

Cassian snorted and shook his head. “Take Amren.”

“Believe me, I wish I could. You look like you’ve had about ten too many. So spare me the protests when I have no choice but to ask you.”

“I have no interest righ–”

“Yes, you do.” Cassian’s eyes flashed at the interruption, but his back straightened as Azriel relayed what they had learned from the Day Court.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Feyre groaned as sunlight poured in through her bedroom window, and she buried her face into Rhys’s chest. He gripped her tightly in response, pressing their naked bodies together. “You know this bed’s going to smell like me now, right?” He kissed her on the forehead, and she grinned.

“Good. I hope Tamlin has to burn the entire bed to try to escape your scent. Maybe we can come back on a later date to sully some of Tamlin’s other possessions.”

“Unfortunately, Feyre, that would require me to come back to the Spring Court.” He grinned back at her, and they kissed softly. “Though I can think of no better reason to return if I did.” He let his eyes lazily drift along her body, before turning to get out of bed. “Now come on, we can have many mornings last until afternoon – or evening, if you so prefer–” He winked towards her, still naked. “–back in the Night Court. We’ll need to get prepared to fight when we send Mor out soon.”

She groaned again as he started to get dressed. She looked at the washroom door and squinted at what seemed like an immeasurable distance. She picked up one of her own scattered shoes off the floor to throw at the bathroom door to wake Morrigan, thought better of it, and threw one of Rhys’s shoes instead. Rhys laughed as they heard a startled yelp come from inside, as he finished tying up his tunic.

“Is it safe for me to come out?” Morrigan’s plea came through the wood, and Feyre felt Rhys’s weight press down besides her on the mattress. She buried herself into her pillow.

“I’m fine, though your High Lady is spending the morning in bed, apparently.”

“Well, hurry it up. A bathroom wall is only interesting to look at for so long.”

“We should’ve invited Cassian. He could’ve just spent the whole night staring in the mirror,” Feyre murmured into her pillow. Rhys laughed and started kissing her along her ear, cheek, and neck. After a bit more coaxing, Feyre allowed Rhys to pull her out of bed, where she finally got dressed, Rhys’s face beaming in blatant delight at the view.

The washroom door slowly opened, Morrigan peeking out slowly. Satisfied the coast was clear, she joined the other two in the main bedroom. She rolled her shoulders and squinted. “That tub was most unpleasant to sleep in, Feyre. You should tell Tamlin to put some pillows in.”

“I’ll make sure to put that on my bucket list of things to do after I depose him, Morrigan, thank you,” Feyre replied with a sardonic, but soft slant in her eyes. Her expression hardened as she contemplated the day ahead. “Are you ready?”

Morrigan nodded. “When you wish.”

“Oka–” Feyre’s response was interrupted by the door flying open. She spun around, Rhys instinctively shielding her. She gaped at Lucien standing in the doorway, watching his nostrils flare as he took in the scent covering the bed, Rhys, and herself. His eyes narrowed.

“I knew it.” His voice came out low, but calm, and Feyre’s heart began to race. She didn’t know if he knew about the field surrounding the room. Her mind raced to come up with a response.

“Lucien, I–“

“Save it,” he quickly interjected. “I don’t care your reasons. Just get out of the Spring Court, now.”

“Okay, Lucien.” Thoughts were flooding her mind, trying to get them out of this situation. “Just let me take my sister back with me, and I’ll go.”

“No,” he growled. “She’s safe, and she’s certainly not going anywhere with you. Not after how I saw her.”

“Lucien, that wasn’t us–“

“I said, save it. I don’t want to hear it.” He pushed his back against the doorway and motioned for them to leave. Feyre’s heart sank, but she walked out, with Rhys and Mor following, glad she was at least able to leave her room. She felt her powers flood back to her, and she was relieved to find the mating bond tethered back to her. She tugged on it, and Rhys responded in kind, his face drenched in relief.

“Lucien.” Rhys’s voice caused Lucien’s head to snap, and the rage Feyre saw storm in his eyes invoked an anger she didn’t know he was capable of.

“I said, save it! You won’t find her here, anyway. So just get out!” Lucien grabbed Rhys’s tunic, and it took every muscle in me not to attack Lucien myself, as Rhys put up his hands and motioned for Morrigan to drop her own, readied powers.

“Let me bring Cassian,” he hastened. His eyes searched Lucien’s, though Lucien’s aggression lessened.

“You’re a daemati. You can just force him to tell me whatever you want him to.” His voice was rife with suspicion, as Rhys attempted to think of a good response. Feyre realized Lucien’s point was valid. There was only one solution she could think of. She closed her eyes and shouted off her compromise before she could stop herself.

“I’ll take you to Elain.” 

At her name, Lucien almost lost his grip on Rhys. He refastened it and turned Rhys with him as he eyed Feyre out of the corner of his eye, pushing Rhys against the wall. “I’m not trading one sister for another. Even if...even if she is my mate.”

“I’m not asking you to,” she soothed. “But let Elain tell you how Nesta’s been treated. How she herself has been treated. We haven’t laid harm to either of them. Even with your weaker mating bond, you’d be able to tell if she was being controlled.” Feyre wasn’t actually sure that was true, but it must have sounded convincing to Lucien, as his expression began softening. He thought for a few seconds.

“Nesta was badly hurt when–“

“We got into a fight.” Morrigan broke in, taking Lucien’s attention. “About Cassian.” Feyre widened her eyes at the partial truth Morrigan threw in, making it easier for Lucien to digest. “She asked not to be healed so she could convince you guys, in order to get close to her sister here.”

Lucien looked between all three of them, Rhys still keeping his hands clearly in view. " _If_ Elain clears your story. _If_. I will reconsider my stance.”

Feyre exchanged looks with Rhys. This was a risky solution, bringing Lucien to Velaris, but Rhys tugged on their mating bond in solidarity. And with just their brief eye contact, she knew his feelings on the topic, and she knew he knew hers. She reached for Morrigan’s hand, and feeling it, she winnowed Mor as Rhys winnowed Lucien.

The sight of the townhome coming into view in front of Feyre overwhelmed her emotions, though she steeled her resolve, willing herself to focus on the more important reality. She spun to Lucien.

“You’ve already been taken somewhere that I assure you very few people have ever known about, let alone stepped foot in. Please understand if I ask you to wait outside while I inform my sister.” Lucien nervously looked between Rhys and her, but he nodded. As she turned to walk inside, she smiled thinly. If it was under better circumstances, she would’ve found Lucien’s anxiety over Elain endearing.

“Feyre!” She was barely inside the townhome before her name was called. She turned sharply to...Amren, who stood at attention in front of her. “Or should I say, High Lady?”

Feyre’s smile grew. “Feyre is fine.” Though she knew Amren was only asking her for formality.

“We’ve got a situation.” Immediately, the smile was gone. “We found out from the Day Court that Tamlin was taking your sister to the King of Hybern today, as part of an exchange.” Feyre’s blood began to boil. She had considered sparing Tamlin’s life in the past, but no more. “Azriel was going to inform you when you arrived, but considering your...delay in returning, it appears that Azriel went ahead and took Cassian to intercept Tamlin. I’m concerned, to say the least. I don’t think either slept last night, and Cassian’s wings still aren’t healed.”

“Excuse me.” Amren didn’t react as Feyre spun on her heels and stormed back out of the townhome. She shielded the entire area around the house from sight or hearing of civilians, then let off a large part of her glamour, surrounding her body with massive storms of darkness, her eyes pitch-black, and let Lucien see her in her power. Lucien shook as Feyre achieved the desired intimidating effect she had sought. Rhys held on to Lucien to prevent him from winnowing, and she stomped towards him. “ _You_.” Darkness shot from her hands.

“Fey...Feyre, we had a–“ He stammered and attempted to wrest himself from Rhys’s grip.

“Tamlin is going to kill my sister. But at least you protected her from US, huh, Lucien?” She steadied her storms and aimed them towards Lucien, as Rhys’s eyes matched her darkness at her words.

“Wait, wait, I can explain.” Lucien struggled heavily now, his clothes and hair whipping strongly back in the dark winds, but Feyre let out a dark laugh.

“Explain what, Lucien? That you not only failed to help _me_ when I needed it, but you left my sister with that _same, crazed lunatic_? ”

“FEYRE, STOP!!!!!” 

She heard a shriek and turned to her right to see Elain running down the street, grocery bags lying on the streets. And her heart broke. She wasn’t actually planning on hurting Lucien, just scaring him – at least, assuming her sister lived – but she couldn’t keep this image up around her sister. Not when her sister thought such different things of her. Feyre didn’t care who else thought of her as a tyrant, but she drew the line at Elain and Nesta. She made eye contact with Rhys, and he nodded, but did not release Lucien, so she slowly restored her glamour. Elain, by this point, had reached Lucien and was hugging him tightly, shielding his body as much as she could and shaking. Both Lucien and Feyre were staring in awe at her.

“Elain...” She called out to her sister.

“NO YOU CAN’T HURT HIM!” Elain was still shrieking, and it was destroying Feyre internally.

“We’re not going to hurt him.” She spoke matter-of-factly, but Elain looked at her and Rhys with a suspicion that somehow hurt her worse than the actual yelling had.

“Then...then let him go.” Feyre opened her mouth to respond, but Elain interrupted her. “ _Let_. _Him_. _Go_.” It was an order – a side of Elain that Feyre had never seen before. Elain kept a tight grip on Lucien’s clothes, and Feyre nodded at Rhys.

“Don’t winnow, please, for Nesta’s sake.” Rhys spoke in a low tone, but he released his grip on Lucien.

Lucien’s attention was still on the girl standing strong in front of him, and Feyre wasn’t sure if he even noticed that Rhys had let him go. After a few moments, he turned to look at Feyre, switching his attention back and forth between her and Rhys.

“As I said, Nesta is safe.” At Feyre’s frown, he sighed. “I found out about Tamlin’s plan, so I swapped out Nesta for another girl in the Spring Court.”

Feyre straightened in surprise. “...Who?”

“Alis.” His tone came out serious, but Feyre couldn’t help but snort.

“You’re seriously suggesting that _Tamlin_ mistook _Alis_ for _Nesta_?”

Lucien began to look irritated. “Shapeshifting potions do wonders.” Rhys glared at Lucien’s tone, but stayed where he stood.

Feyre equally matched his irritation. “Where is my sister?”

“As I said, we have a bargain. I fully intend to make sure you are willing to honor your side before I give up the safety of a girl I’m still not sure you didn’t torture.”

At these words, Elain spun around in horror. “What?! Torture? No, Nesta was fine here. I mean, she never really _enjoyed_ being here – I still think she hates being Fae – but she was fed well and given free roam.” A realization covered her face as she recalled the dinner from a few nights ago. “Lucien, she got into a fight with Morrigan!! That wasn’t...no that’s horrible. Feyre and Rhys would never do that to her.” Elain eyed Feyre in a way that she knew meant she wasn’t off the hook for Lucien despite Elain’s defense, before turning back to him.

“Elain...” His face softened at his mention of her name, and he studied her eyes. “What about you? How are they treating you?”

“Rhys offered Nesta and me a large sum of money. I didn’t feel right just taking it, so Rhys hired me as the cook for the townhome, at least until I could be trained to help his Court.” Feyre looked sharply at Rhys, who gave another sheepish smile and a small shrug back. She fixed her attention back to Lucien.

“Lucien, please. My military captain is in danger trying to capture a carriage he thinks has Nesta in it. We need to get to her to try to get ahold of him. I know their mating bond isn’t strong, but maybe she can still reach him. Otherwise, we’ll have to scour Tamlin’s entire route for him.”

Elain turned back to Feyre and went wide-eyed. “Cassian?” Receiving a reluctant, affirmative nod from Feyre, she grabbed Lucien tighter and looked in his eyes. “Please. Besides Feyre and myself, Cassian’s the only thing in the world that really, deeply matters to Nesta. Please help.”

It only took a second before Lucien started talking. “I took her where I knew none of you could get to her.” He looked sharply at Feyre. “The Summer Court.” Rhys groaned besides him. “Only Tarquin knows she is there; no one else, not even his children, are aware. I called in a long-owed favor.”

“Someone get Azriel,” Rhys spoke dryly.

“Azriel’s with Cassian,” Amren chimed in, leaning against the front of the townhome. Rhys’s eye twitched.

“I’ll go,” Morrigan volunteered. “Not like there’s anyone else who can, anyway.”

“I’ll go, too.” Everyone, especially including Lucien jumped at Elain’s declaration. Feyre quickly shook her head.

“Elain, you’re not prep–“

“Feyre, I don’t need _you_ telling me what _I_ can do. You didn’t appreciate it when it was done to you, and I would appreciate the same consideration, thank you very much.” Elain had fire in her eyes, and Feyre figured she deserved the harsh tone for threatening her mate.

“It’s...not a combat situation.” Feyre’s attention sharply swung to Lucien, now defending Elain. “She’ll have Morrigan and me there, and Morrigan knows how to winnow back here in an emergency.”

Elain nodded in support. “She needs one of her sisters with her, Feyre.”

Feyre blinked. Were they already working...as a team? She sighed in frustration, but threw her hands up in the air, knowing there weren’t many options. “If either she or Nesta gets hurt–” She looked at Morrigan as well as Lucien for Elain’s sake. “–what happened earlier will look pleasant.”

Lucien nodded and extended his right arm to Morrigan. Elain already had her hand on his left arm. Morrigan accepted it, and they disappeared before Feyre’s eyes.

To somewhere she couldn’t follow.


	7. Chapter 7

Tarquin groaned into the reports filed for him by his advisors. Being a High Lord was nonstop work in and of itself, but with the various activities going on, it was beginning to become harder and harder for the Summer Court to maintain a neutral diplomatic stance between the other six Courts. 

The Day Court had requested support in defending their territory, but he had determined that his troops would not be able to get there in time to make much difference. To make matters more complicated, his spies had discovered the Day Court was accepting the Night Court’s aid in the matter, making him less inclined to get involved. Feyre’s return to the Spring Court had also messed with cross-Court negotiations, as he had not been particularly willing to entertain the emissary of a Court shielding the thief who stole the Book of Breathings from his Court. It had taken all his patience just to listen to Lucien’s request, and he had only agreed to it upon the insistence his debt would be paid in full and with the knowledge that the girl might have been killed otherwise. She may be an Archeron, but she was not responsible for the sins of her sister.

A knock on his office doors interrupted his thoughts. “Come in.” The doors swung open to reveal his son, expression muted. “Varian. How can I help you?”

“Father, it seems Lucien has returned.” Tarquin frowned in irritation. “And it seems he has brought an unwelcome guest.”

“What kind of unwelcome guest?” Tarquin’s voice came out dangerously low, and his eyes squinted at the idea of Lucien bringing Fey--

“A member of the Night Court, Morrigan. She fought for Prythian in the Great War, but she is also--” 

“I know who she is, Varian. Unless you’ve forgotten I was part of that war too.” Tarquin scrunched his face in confusion, trying to parse out her reasons for being here. 

“Of course. He also brought another woman, significantly younger, who identified herself as Elain Archeron.” Tarquin’s eyes shot up at Varian, who awaited his word. He contemplated for a minute, then motioned for Varian to leave.

“Bring them to me. Don’t let any of them be alone at any point in time, unless they are with me or unless I inform you otherwise.”

“Understood.” Varian bowed and left, shutting the doors behind him. A few minutes later, he returned with Lucien, Cresseida, Morrigan, and a young woman he did not recognize, who he assumed to be Elain. He remained seated to show his disapproval at the situation as they entered.

“Leave us, and guard this room. Make sure no one enters – _or leaves_ –” He stared at Lucien strongly. “–without my permission.” His voice boomed, mostly for the intimidation of his guests. Cresseida looked as if she would move to object, but his stern gaze caused her to bow and leave the room with her brother, closing the room. He exchanged glances with Lucien again, and his voice quieted. “Care to inform me why you are here, Lucien?”

“I’m here to retrieve Nesta.” Tarquin noticed the younger woman was studying Lucien carefully as he spoke, steady in reply.

“And you needed to involve the Night Court in this mission, why? You are aware that two members of their Court have blood rubies on their heads?”

“Three.” Tarquin snapped his attention at Morrigan’s cool interjection. “All three are members of the Night Court again.”

“You may have done many deeds of respect for Prythian, Morrigan, but you still do not have the right to interrupt me in my own capital. Are we understood?” Morrigan merely stared at him back, and he concentrated his eyes back on Lucien. “Hopefully that was not the only reason you have brought her here, Lucien. My patience with you grows thin. And may I ask why you brought a young woman with you?”

“My name is Elain Archeron.” Elain curtseyed deeply in front of him, as Lucien’s pupils dilated, and he visibly started sweating at her answering his question. He studied her for a moment.

“Am I right to assume you are related to Feyre and Nesta?”

“Yes.” She nodded. “I am their middle sister.”

Tarquin laughed sharply in amusement and looked at Lucien and Morrigan, but their faces were solidly serious, save a tinge of worry still in Lucien’s brow. “Tell me, Elain. Why are Morrigan and you involving yourselves in a private bargain made between the chief advisor of one Court and the High Lord of another?”

“A good friend of ours, and an even closer one of Nesta’s, is in danger. We need her aid in finding him. Please, Lord Tarquin–” She strained her voice and bowed her head in front of him, and he leaned back in his chair, surprised. “–let me see my sister so we can help him.”

His vision stayed on the young woman for awhile, analyzing her expression, before he finally shifted back to Morrigan. “Are you suggesting to me that a ‘friend’ of one of the highest-ranked members of the Night Court needs the help of a young, injured, newly-Fae woman to not be in mortal peril?”

Lucien shifted his eyes in discomfort, but Morrigan held his gaze strongly. “Normally, no. But the circumstances are so that...we’d feel safer if we could bring him back. The details would unnecessarily involve the Summer Court in an international issue that doesn’t concern you.” Tarquin narrowed his eyes and laid his eyes on Lucien again.

“Was it not you who, _just last night_ –” His voice turned low and guttural in annoyance. “–was begging me to protect this girl from the Night Court?”

Lucien’s face flushed in embarrassment. “I was mistaken about the Night Court. But considering her injuries, and her testimony about them, I still feel it was a safe assumption to make last night. She passed out from shock when I helped rescue her from Tamlin, so she wasn’t able to inform me her injuries were...contrived.”

Tarquin raised his eyebrows. “For what purpose?” Lucien delayed in his response, and he remembered Morrigan’s earlier interruption. “Ah, of course.” He studied each person individually, before giving his decision. “The young woman can go meet the girl, but both of you will be spending quality time getting to know my daughter until I decide it’s okay for Nesta to leave my protection.” Lucien’s eyes widened, but Tarquin hastened to cut off his old friend and stood up, leaning closer. “Do we have an understanding?”

Lucien gave a strong look to Tarquin, but he swallowed his reply and nodded. Morrigan merely blinked and casually turned to guide Elain out, who curtseyed goodbye. They were almost at the door when he called out. “Miss Archeron!” She turned on her heels gracefully and looked at him. “You are welcome in Adriata at any time you desire. Your sisters could learn a lot from your etiquette. These two–” He motioned to Morrigan and Lucien. “–can inform you of this Court’s grievance with Feyre, and as for Nesta...” He lifted the arm on his jacket to reveal a heavily bandaged wound on his inner forearm. “...let’s just say that you should be careful dealing with her right now. It was not fun explaining this away to the palace healers.” He rolled his sleeve back down. “She doesn’t particularly... _appreciate_ her current position, and I have not been able to talk to her in any meaningful sense as a result. Hopefully, you will have better luck.” 

He nodded to her in dismissal and she bowed back, turning to leave with Lucien and Morrigan. He followed her to the door, informing Varian the room to escort her to, then shut the doors to his office and walked back to his desk. As he sat down, he got back to work, wishing the other Courts would give him a simple day of peace and quiet.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Nesta laid in bed, bored, studying her newfound claws. After being kidnapped from the room of the Spring Court, she’d woken up to an unfamiliar figure hovering behind her, and she had slipped off her binding bracelet while she pretended to sleep, hoping to summon the dark energy again. When they touched her side, she had instinctually fought back, and out these claws came instead. She had managed to land a good hit, latching onto the arm that had rested on her waist, but the intruder hadn’t even bothered to fight back, so she wondered if fighting had been a good idea. And unfortunately, he had been closer to the door, so he had left her room and re-locked her escape route before she could react. Since then, she hadn’t had any visitors, a fact her rumbling stomach was now reminding her constantly about.

She had studied the room extensively. It was a very small room with minimal wallpaper, with an even smaller washroom. There wasn’t even a window or a closet. And the only entrance or exit was the single door, which remained locked and made of some sort of reinforced material that hadn’t yielded an inch to her claws. She didn’t know what room in the Spring Court this was, if this even was the Spring Court. More than anything, she didn’t understand why anyone had even _built_ this room.

The sound of footsteps and voices approaching her door invaded her thoughts and she quickly backed up against the parallel wall.

“Tarquin asked you to wait here while Cresseida and I discuss some matters of importance with your friends. Please make yourself comfortable.” The last few words of the sentence became almost unbearably loud as the door opened, and she awaited the new visitor, preparing to attack if she needed to. And as the door closed behind her, she saw…

“Elain!!!” Her sister twirled in surprise as she hugged her tightly, making sure to keep her claws away from Elain’s back.

“Thank the Cauldron, Nesta. Are you alright?” She felt her sister shout as she gripped back. She winced at the noise.

“I’m okay, but we’re locked in this stupid room.” She broke the hug to gesture around the room. “I don’t know how long it’...what?” She noticed Elain was holding in a laugh and looking at her face. She reached up and felt her face, but nothing but skin met her. “Is something wrong with my face?”

“Have you seen yourself, Nesta?” Nesta winced at the noise again.

“Elain, stop yelling, please. But no, there’s not a mirror in the bathroom. I’m not even sure this room is technically a bedroom. What’s wrong?”

Elain calmed down for long enough to lean over. “Oh nothing,” she muffled through one hand, “just this.” She reached up to flick Nesta’s scalp with her other hand. Except she didn’t hit Nesta’s scalp. She hit something more solid, and Nesta flinched. She reached on top of her head and felt her hand brush...her ears. Her face burned, and she ran to the bed to grab the binding bracelet and put it back on her wrist. As soon as it was back in place, the claws rescinded and she suddenly became aware of how much less she could hear. She slowly turned to her sister, face still red.

“No one hears about this,” Nesta hissed, as Elain finally controlled her giggle into a soft smile.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell Cassian.”

“ _No one_.” Nesta narrowed her eyes in faux anger to hide her embarrassment.

“Oh, I won’t tell anyone.” She leaned in close to her sister and winked. “But I especially won’t tell Cassian.” Elain’s eyes suddenly shot fully open. “Right! Nesta, we need your help.”

Nesta favored her face as she sat down on the bed and studied the wall, trying to get the blush to go away. “As I was saying before, Elain, I’m kinda trapped in–”

“No, not with getting out of here. I can get you out.” Nesta raised her eyes to Elain in curiosity. “But that’s not important. What’s important is that Cassian did a very stupid thing.” 

Nesta rolled her eyes. “What else is new?”

“No, not like his usual ‘I burned down a building in the Summer Court’ stupid.” Nesta raised an eyebrow, and Elain waved her intrigue off. “Again, not important. You’re in this room, because Lucien took you here.” Nesta sat up fully in anger. “No, stop. He swapped you out of the Spring Court with someone else, because Tamlin was going to take you to the King of Hybern. However...Cassian didn’t know about that. Azriel found out about Tamlin’s plan, and he told Cassian, so the two of them went to go get you back before Tamlin reaches Hybern.”

Nesta sighed. “They’re two of the strongest Illyrian males in Prythian. Why should I be concerned?”

“He may be fine either way. But I’m concerned, because Feyre is concerned.” Nesta eyed her, suspiciously. “I don’t know details of why she’s worried – we kinda rushed over here. Here being the Summer Court–” She had read the question on Nesta’s face. “–but if I had to guess, I’d say she’s worried that they’re trying to rescue someone who isn’t there. Who knows what he’ll do when he finds someone else there, Nesta. What if he goes to the Spring Court? His wings are still injured. If he gets stopped from winnowing–“

“Okay, I get it,” Nesta interrupted. “What exactly is it you want me to do? I’m stuck in this room, Elain.”

“I need you to try to reach him with your mating bond.”

The words struck Nesta like a bullet. The last thing she wanted was to have this conversation again. “We’re not–“

“Oh my gosh Nesta, shut up, seriously. I’m not that stupid.” Nesta’s eyes widened in shock at Elain’s language, and her sister’s face quickly contorted in apology. “Sorry, I didn’t meant that. I lost my sisterly patience today with Feyre, but I didn’t mean to take it out on you. Even so, though, I know how you treat me, Nesta. You see me as this perfect, innocent little flower who deserves to be coddled and protected from the truth.” Nesta opened her mouth to speak, but Elain cut her off. “Don’t you dare deny it. Did you think I wasn’t listening to your conversation with Cassian at Father’s house?” 

Nesta’s face flushed again, and Elain scrambled to explain herself. “Well, I wouldn’t have listened in had I known that you two would...well anyway, I didn’t know. But I wanted to stay up-to-date on what was going on, since you weren’t telling me anything. And I heard you tell him to keep me out of the entire political arena. Not to mention, I’ve seen you, many, many times, work extra hard to take some supposed weight off my shoulders.” Her voice began rising again. “Well maybe, I want that weight. And _maybe_ , I _want_ to help out. Have you thought about that?” 

Elain was breathing hard, her voice having risen several decibels by this point, and Nesta just stared at her gaping, wide-eyed. She felt horrible; she had never seen Elain like this before. “I’m sorry, Elain. I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean...I hope I haven’t caused you this much stress. I never meant to...” She struggled to maintain eye contact with her sister, and her eyes started tearing. Elain’s face lit up in a miniature panic, and she rushed to sit next to her sister, consoling her.

“I’m sorry, Nesta. I know you didn’t mean to. I just...” Elain sighed. “Feyre attacked Lucien earlier, and I’ve been on edge all day from it. Plus, I had to keep it internal during a meeting with Tarq–the High Lord of the Summer Court. What I said is still true, though, so please keep it in mind in the future. But we can talk about it later when things are calmer. I didn’t mean it as harsh.” She breathed deeply and re-concentrated. “ _Anyway_ , mating bond. You. Cassian. Pull him here.”

Nesta wiped at her eyes. “I don’t know how I would even do that.”

“Well, when Lucien and I were trying to contact each other when I was in the Night Court–” Nesta couldn’t catch the glare from showing up on her face, but she put her hands up in apology at Elain’s expression in response. “–anyway, I asked a lot of questions about the mating bond in order to try to find him. So I kept trying different methods based on Rhys’s description of his own mating bond...and I eventually found a tether. It was weak at first, but I was finally able to pull on it. I didn’t know what to expect but...the next day I got an image of a meadow garden, and it made me really happy. I knew I couldn’t send him pictures back of Velaris because of its secretive nature, but I tried to send him the vision of my face I saw when I looked in our bedroom mirror. Immediately, he sent me back his own image.”

“How is this supposed to help me, Elain? I don’t have a month to prepare.” Nesta was getting impatient, mostly because she wasn’t keen on hearing any more about Lucien than she had to.

“You don’t need to. I saw him today, and being in person with him...that tether was there, just much easier to see. Just think about it strongly. Can you remember the cord being there for you to pull with Cassian?”

“No.” Nesta swallowed hard, and a pit opened in her stomach. She had shut out Cassian so much, not letting herself feel her bond with him, maintaining those walls and keeping him at a safe distance, that it might now cost her him as a price. Her heart started racing, and she closed her eyes in concentration.

She searched her memories, trying to pull the memory of her bond to her. But no matter what the memory was, whether him comforting her after her nightmare, him on her neck at her house, her kissing him, she couldn’t figure out what Elain was talking about. When she’d been around him, she either got lost in him or pushed him away. It was so black and white to her; there was no cord. She was either with him, feeling him, almost one with him, or she was far away, feeling nothing, letting no one near her. 

She had never actually let herself feel her own emotions, and she was just now realizing it. It was far easier feeling his instead. It was why the bond bothered her so much – it forced her to think past her surface, forced her to confront her emotions through his reaction, and she didn’t want anyone, most of all herself, getting anywhere near that time bomb.

“Stupid, stupid,” she muttered to herself in frustration as her eyes opened.

“It’s okay, Nesta. It’s hard to find at first,” Elain said quietly. “Azriel’s with Cassian, so maybe he can talk some sense into him. You don’t need to overburden yourself.”

Nesta’s thoughts went back to that kiss she stole from him in the Spring Court. She still didn’t know why she had done it. She had seen him look so hurt, and a part of her had...her eyes snapped shut, and she concentrated on the feeling she had had in that moment, the pain she had felt seeing his tears form, the pain that had prompted her to reach for him. She searched herself for that anguish, pouring her soul into it, throwing herself mentally at him as she had done physically, trying to sense his emotions, trying to see if he was okay.

And suddenly she was staring at Azriel, looking worse for wear, mouth moving rapidly without sound with a fallen carriage behind him. She gasped at the shock of the sudden image and, in an instant, she lost her grip and the image disappeared, slamming her into blackness.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Nesta!” She awoke, temples throbbing, to her sister’s voice next to her. She felt the bed beneath her – she must have been moved after she passed out. She opened her eyes to investigate and immediately regretted her decision, the room’s lights sharpening the pain in her head.

“Ugh, what happened?” She shielded her eyes as they slowly adjusted to her sister worrying over her.

“You just...fell unconscious. One second you were hyper-focused, eyes clenched shut, and the next, your eyes fluttered open and you were falling forward off the bed. You almost hit your head on the floor, but I was able to catch you in time. Do you remember anything that happened?”

She tried to think about it, but she was in too much pain to remember much more than some blurred colors from what she had seen. “I’m not sure, Elain. How long was I out?”

“Not long. About five minutes.” Elain laid down, resting her head on the pillow next to Nesta and concentrating her gaze on the ceiling. “I’m glad you’re safe.”

“Thanks.” Nesta eyed Elain out of the corner of her eye. A few moments of comfortable silence passed between them, before Nesta closed her eyes and spoke. “Lucien was nice to me, by the way.” She could feel her sister’s eyes shift to her in surprise. “When Tamlin grabbed me from Cassian, he was rough. He was rude. He paraded me around like the trophy of a battle victory over Rhysand.” She laughed darkly. “He didn’t even remember to invite me to dinner. I’m glad Feyre is far away from him.” She swallowed, then continued. “I’m not saying I’m a big fan of Rhysand or this awful Fae world, but if she had to be here...I’m glad she’s with him.” She opened her eyes and turned to make eye contact with Elain. “At any rate, Lucien was different. He never touched me, never pried, offered to provide anything I needed, and gave me space when I didn’t ask. This doesn’t mean I approve of him – I still can’t get over how he ignored Feyre when she needed his help –” Her tone sharpened in response to Elain’s face glowing. “–but you have the right to choose who you want to choose, if you do end up wanting him.” Elain moved to hug her, and she winced. “Don’t get too excited. I’m just saying he’s someone I don’t instinctually want to throw a brick at.”

Elain laughed. “Well, we’re even. I don’t particularly want to throw a brick at–” The door busted open with a splinter and a loud bang, and Nesta jumped in front of her sister in defense, one hand on her bracelet in preparation to fight. As the dust settled, she saw a face form and sucked in her breath.

“Cassian.” He stopped and looked dead in her eyes. His face was a pale white, and he was breathing heavily. He looked dehydrated and exhausted; she wondered when the last time he slept was.

“Cassian, I don’t need to remind you again that you are _barred_ from stepping foot in Adriata, or any other part of the Summer Court, for that matter.” A woman, dressed in a lightweight armor of rich blues and oranges and wearing a sharp scowl on her face, ran into the room and stood between the two of them. “You can’t–who are you?” She had noticed Nesta in the room beside Elain, and she took a defensive stance several paces from both Cassian and her, so she could keep an eye on both.

“Princess of the Summer Court,” Nesta heard Elain whisper in her ear. “I’ll be fine.”

Nesta stood up and held eye contact a foot from the woman, smirking. “Nesta Archeron. And I’d suggest you cool your tone, before someone else does it for you.” The woman’s eyes darkened in anger, and Nesta’s smile grew. “Don’t worry, we’re leaving.” Dismissing her, she walked over to Cassian, grabbed his arm, and nodded. 

Quickly, the darkness enveloped her, and she found herself on the cliffside over Velaris he had brought her to two nights prior, although it now felt like weeks to her. She released her grip on his arm and eyed him in curiosity from the corner of her eyes, body facing the city beneath. He was staring at her with wide, but tired eyes.

“Why here? Why not the townhome?” Her arms were crossed and her voice was calm and measured, still resolute in the flat mask of an expression she wore around him. He exhaled a low, short laugh, then coughed.

“Not going to ask how I’m doing?” Her eyes snapped to the sound of his voice, weathered and torn, as if the state of his wings had somehow spread to his vocal box. He somehow managed to have that infuriatingly arrogant grin on his face, though he looked like he shouldn’t even be able to stand. She spread her eyes down, then back up his body slowly. 

“I would say that’s fairly obvious. You enjoy putting yourself on the verge of death.” She looked back out upon the city and put a dark smile on her face as she shut her eyes, keeping her neck straight. “Or am I expected to praise endlessly your reckless decision to endanger your life in order to ‘save’ me from the horrible nightmare that was a locked, slightly small bedroom?” Her words cut with an acerbic intensity, each one laced with the anger she felt towards the concern he had caused her.

Silence met her question, and, after waiting him out, feeling nothing but the midday wind, strong from the altitude, whisking through her hair, she finally gave in and turned to spy on his expression. He was still looking at her, but his grin was gone. He exhaled again at her look, this time with no amusement behind it, and stared back at the city himself.

“What’s it like living in that walled city of yours? Must be lonely, having a population of one.” She couldn’t tell if it was the exhaustion or something else, but his words carried a dullness to them she wasn’t used to.

“At least my walls aren’t giant mirrors used to primp my ego into an astronomical, arrogant mess.” Her words were successful at getting Cassian to return her gaze, but his eyes had an anger in her that startled her. Her back straightened, though her eyes kept strong against his.

“What’s your problem, anyway?” He turned and took a few steps away from her to steam, then spun around again. “Honestly, Nesta Archeron, what could _anyone_ possibly do to make you stop taking your hatred at the world out on those who actually care?”

“None of you care about my family.” Her words came out without thinking, surprising even herself. Cassian stepped back and swallowed, and she took a sharp breath. “Well, maybe Feyre, but not Elain or myself. We were the concern of your High Lord’s mate, then necessary human emissaries, and now we’ve become your problem due to the King of Hybern’s actions. We are not in your life by choice, and we never have been.” She stepped closer to Cassian, eyes still locked on their mark. “Not. Even. Yours.”

His nostrils flared. “How can you say tha–“

“I know about the mating bond.” She said it coolly, but lethally, and his pupils dilated. “How long were you planning on hiding that one from me, Cassian? Eternity’s a long time to keep a secret.” Her heart was killing her, chest contracting from the pain she saw her words have on him, but if she didn’t get this off her chest now, she wasn’t sure when she’d be willing to have this conversation again. And she _needed_ to confront him about this.

“I didn’t...I wasn’t hiding it.” The anger in his face was gone, and all that remained was the exhaustion of the past few days’ activities. But even through all his tire, even through all the pain her words had caused, she saw the truth spring forth in his eyes. “I only knew for sure myself two days ago. It’s why I was so wound up...about everything, that day.”

She studied his posture, his response. “You could have told me yesterday.”

“Believe me, I tried. But...I saw you smile that morning, and if something happened to you in the Spring Court, I wanted you to be able to remember that. Not being told about the bond. I told myself I’d tell you when you got back.” Truth still shone strong in his words, and she gritted her teeth. She wanted so much to hate this male, to throw all her pain at him, to keep him out of her mind, her heart, her emotions. But behind all his bravado and hypermasculinity lay the emotions he never showed: his quiet caring, his...shared loyalty for those he cared about. But he didn’t show them because he had never needed to show them; they were clear for anyone who met him. Whereas she...

“Why doesn’t it bother you?” He blinked in surprise, but he steeled his face in response to her question. “Why am I the only one who seems to think this is crazy? People being force-fed emotions, people living together _forever_ because of something they didn’t choose? I feel I’m going insane. _Elain’s_ even accepted it as normal.” She raised her arms in frustration, and his face twisted.

“I want you to feel free to make your own choices, Nesta.” He swallowed. “Not just with me, but with...everything. I haven’t trained you, because you haven’t asked me to. I’ve left you alone, because you’ve stayed away from me. If you wanted to live somewhere else – Winter Court, Day Court, the human realm – I’d do anything I could to help make that happen for you. If you asked me not to speak to you again...” His eyes troubled at the thought, and her chest tightened again. “...I would do it.”

The wind moved around them, gaining speed, whipping their clothes against their body, as if to sympathize with his emotions, as silence once again settled between them. She knew he was wary around her, but to be thinking about stuff like that...no wonder he was. After a few minutes, she snorted to break the quiet. “No one gets _that_ kind of privilege.”

He rolled his eyes. “Not even Cresseida. Tarquin’s daughter, earlier.” He clarified at her raised eyebrow. “Rhys and Feyre are going to enjoy that story; they’ve never been a big fan of hers, to say the least.”

She twisted a smile at him. “Speaking of the Su...” Her smile cut as she trailed off and looked back at him in realization. “You didn’t answer my question.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What question?”

“’ _More questions_ ,’ that’s what you said to me right?” He looked at her in irritation, so she rolled her eyes. “Fine. Why doesn’t the mating bond bother you?”

“Oh, uh...I don’t know. Maybe I’m just used to the idea because I’ve lived with the knowledge it could happen my whole life.” She felt dagger sensations through her chest at the blatant lie. She stared at him incredulously, licked her lips, and leaned in so her eyes were inches from his. She felt the mating bond urge her towards him, but she resisted, letting him savor in her closeness, as she replied.

“Going to have to try better than that, _sweetheart_.” The apprehension in his face returned at her words, and she contorted her own face in frustration. She debated her actions, but she decided to give it up. “Fine. If you don’t want to tell me, just winnow me home already. I need to sleep off this headache anyway.” She moved to back away from him, but he quickly, gently grabbed her hand. She thought he meant to winnow her away, but his next words took any such thoughts far away from her mind.

“I...I knew I loved you before.” Her body went rigid and her eyes distant. She backed up two steps in shock, him releasing her hand at her tug, and for the first time that night she broke his gaze.

“What,” she managed to choke out.

His eyes went strife with anxiety over her reaction, but he answered calmly. “From before the mating bond.” 

“No, _I got that_.” Her mind raced back at every time they had talked, every time they had been around each other, and he had... “When.” It was as much a statement as a question, and she could tell he understood.

“When I delivered that letter to you. When...I realized what you hung onto. What pain you lived through every day to shield others from theirs. The sacrifices you made for others, and the regret you have over your past.” She matched eyes with his again, though hers were full of doubt and his, fear. “I’ve never cared about our physical connection. It’s obviously there, but...I’m sure you’ve felt it, too. Your heightened senses detecting who to trust or not trust. It was...like that.”

“You barely knew me.” She was still having trouble speaking, her mind analyzing every word he said, every movement he made, every way the look in his eyes changed. He shrugged in response.

“I wish I could explain it. It was like I had known you my entire life.”

“It was the mating bond.” She took another step back, though her memories of her own reactions to him kept flowing through her mind.

“Maybe so. But it can’t make an Illyrian fall in love with a human. At best, it can tug them closer. What I saw was true, even if it was made more visible by the bond. All that I cared–all that I _care_ about is the person you are. The person...I want.”

She went quiet. She could hear her heart beat over the pulse of the wind. She knew what he meant. She had felt the tug back then, but she never acted on it. But the other day, when she had been frightened in her room from that nightmare, and he had talked her through it...she had felt _him_. Not his emotions, not his thoughts, but him. And that’s the feeling that had led her to want to end his pain the next day, to replace it with something he could remember more fondly. She looked up at him, eyes still struggling to work through everything, and he shifted.

“Listen...Nesta. I know that I’m crazy, okay? It took me weeks after coming back from visiting you to get you out of my system. All I could think of was how I could only have you for a few decades, even if things did work out. And then...everything happened with the Cauldron and I heard you scream. And I knew that if you went into the Cauldron I could be around you forever. But I also knew it was something you would hate forever too. So I tried, pushing every muscle in my body to get up to help you–” He gritted his teeth. “–but in the end, I broke my promise to you. I vowed to myself, on that castle floor, that I would make it up to you, for eternity if I had to. That you would never be forced to do something you didn’t want to again.” 

She looked up towards him, both of their eyes watering, his voice wavering in speech. “And then I found out about the mating bond. At first I was happy; it gave me strength, and it made me want to come see you that night. I thought that maybe there might be a good ending in all of this pain, somehow, someway. But...” He dipped his eyes from hers as the tears began to stream down his face. “...when I got to the townhome, I realized what it might feel like to you. And I realized that it was another situation in your life that you didn’t get to choose.” Her heart was pounding, seeing him cry like that, but she still couldn’t...function. She was spending most of her efforts holding back the rushes of emotion that were flooding her body. “I know how much you can’t stand this world. I realize that. So I’ve wanted you to know that...it’s okay to reject the mating bond. I’m prepared for it.” Her eyes widened at his words. “Every choice in your life I want you to freely make.”

He finally quieted, and she studied him as he tried pushing the pain off his face, tried stopping the tears, tried keeping this bottle of emotion from pouring out in front of her. She wiped her own eyes, taking a long time thinking about his words and sizing him up, as he simply stood there, meeting her gaze, letting her take her time. Finally, she closed the few steps between them that had earlier seemed to her to be an impassable chasm, stopping mere inches from him. She looked up into his strong, hazel eyes, making sure she made full contact for her reply, her voice like ice.

“I find it the epitome of irony that a male who speaks so highly of his concerns for my right to agency could, in the same breath, speak as if he already knew my decision.” She stood there, coolly eying him, for a few seconds, before sharpening her gaze and reaching out her hand. “Take me home. You look like you’re going to faint from fatigue.” 

To his credit, he didn’t so much as flinch at her words, taking her back to the front door of her townhome in a moment's notice, where she walked inside without another word.

Leaving him stunned on the sidewalk outside.


	8. Chapter 8

As soon as the door was shut behind her, with no one in sight, Nesta backed up against it and slid down to the floor, arms over her knees. She let her breath release, and it sped up to match the wild beat of her heart, as she clenched her eyes shut, bowing her head at the feeling of her mental shields finally yielding to the overwhelming torrent of emotion flowing through her.

_Stupid_ , _stupid_ , _stupid_.

She shouldn’t have asked. He shouldn’t have answered. This shouldn’t have been discussed. How was she going to talk to him again without that coming between them? Without things being awkward? And as much as she didn’t want to care, as much as she wanted to be able to dismiss his presence in her life as meaningless, she knew it would kill her for things not to be comfortable between the two of them. The one stupid thing that felt right in her life still, even if it was because of that blasted mating bond. She pulled her knees closer to her, and tears began falling softly down her cheeks.

_Stupid_ , _stupid_. _You’re so stupid_.

She knew she had pushed...pushed for a reason. She could have just left it alone, but she didn’t. Maybe she had thought he’d blow the question off with his usual ego. Maybe she had honestly...wanted to know. She didn’t know. All she knew was that...

“He’s going to be afraid to see me again.”

The words came out at a bare, choked whisper, even though she knew with her Fae senses she was alone in the townhome. The truth was, she knew how she felt about him. He was the only one that could take her anger and not flinch a muscle. He was the only one who saw everything about her, every dark secret of her past, and he loved her anyway. She knew he didn’t just care about her for her surface, whether her personality or her body. He accepted her baggage as much as he accepted her good days; she knew he truly cared about her. And she’d had the nerve to accuse him to his face otherwise.

Her crying intensified, and the storms brewing inside her fueled with new, spiraling emotions. She hadn’t expected how rapidly she’d grown accustomed to him, after avoiding him for the better part of the past month. She had been so nervous about the mission to save Feyre that she hadn’t even noticed her feelings return until she was planting herself on him in the Spring Court. She had told herself that it was to calm his anxiety, but deep down...she had wanted to know for her own sake. What it was like to kiss someone she really, deeply _wanted_ to kiss. What it was like to kiss... _him_.

She knew she loved him. She wouldn’t dare speak that out loud, let alone to him, but she couldn’t help feeling it. She had given up trying to push it away, trying to deny it to herself. Still, she couldn’t accept the mating bond – it felt forced, and she hated every part of it – but she felt she would literally tear herself apart if she rejected it. This warped limbo between the two positions had trapped her, and she’d had to work through this struggle every day. She had convinced herself that she could just wait a very long time, centuries if needed, to come to terms with it; she was immortal, after all. And she knew deep down he would wait for her as long as she needed. But when she heard him talk about her rejecting the mating bond...

She knew that would be impossible. She knew she couldn’t do it, whether today or five hundred years in the future. And this time, it wasn’t the pain on his face prompting her decision. She knew, in that moment, that she could spend centuries away from him, but she would never forget the sound of his voice; the way he looked at her when they were alone; the way he looked at her when they _weren’t_ , wearing his love for her on his sleeve, like every other unspoken thing about him.

Her crying began to subside as she started taking deep breaths, trying to work through her thoughts. Even if she knew she’d never reject the mating bond, she didn’t have to accept it right now, either. She knew innately that he wouldn’t pressure her, wouldn’t push her into a decision. Whether that was due to the mating bond or not, she didn’t particularly care right now. But she needed to figure out how to talk to him again, first. Then she could worry about other things. She didn’t need to be complicating the situation even more right now.

She took one last, especially deep breath and stood up, wiping her reddened eyes. As she did, though, she no sooner felt the winnows into the townhome than heard voices of her sister and Rhysand emerge from the dining room, mid-sentence. She eyed the staircase, still in view from her location. She knew she couldn’t make it there without walking through the view of the two of them in the dining room, and that was a whole host of issues she didn’t want to deal with. For the first time in her life, she regretted being unable to winnow.

Suddenly, she heard a scuffling at the door behind her, and her body acted before her mind even thought of the plan. The door crashed into her as it swung open, and she pretended to get knocked into the wall.

“What in _Prythian_ is wrong with you?” she hissed at the person on the other side of the door. She covered her eyes, mostly to shield the redness, as she saw Elain run around the door in concern. She immediately regretted her plan, though she decided she had to see it through now that it was in motion.

“I’m sorry!! I can’t winnow, so I have to use the front door...” Elain’s face twisted something in her stomach. “Are you okay??”

“Yeah, Elain, I’m not that hurt.” She brushed herself off as she tried to keep her face away from her sister. “Just to be safe though, I’m going to go upstairs and check while I get changed.”

At her words, Elain jumped in front of her before she could react, in order to get a view of her face. She saw her sister’s face go to alert and her voice came out soft, but intense. “Nesta...!”

“As I said, I’ll be fine, Elain.” She moved to try to move past her sister, but Elain narrowed her eyes and grabbed her wrist, to her surprise. Suddenly, she felt herself get pulled sharply, and she stumbled forward in startle, covering her face in instinct.

“Hey Feyre, can you give us a few minutes? No reason to force Nesta to display her black eye from her fight with Morrigan any longer than need be,” Elain called out as she dragged Nesta behind her rapidly to and up the staircase.

“Uhh,” Nesta heard Feyre stammer back, but they were out of line of sight before she was really able to react. As the bedroom door shut behind the two of them, Elain eyed Nesta.

“I don’t need to know anything. But don’t try to lie to me.” She turned back to her closet and started sorting through clothes rapidly. “Oh, and you should probably cover that eye of yours to cover my story for you. You can use my makeup; we’re similar skin tones. I’ll get you some of your own tomorrow.”

“Feyre isn’t going to buy that argument for one second, Elain.” Nesta put a hand on her hip in impatience, and Elain peeked from outside the closet.

“No, but you wouldn’t have been able to hide your eyes from her anyway. But now, Rhysand will believe it, and Feyre will know not to talk to him about it.” She went back to rummaging through her closet.

“Fair enough, I guess.” Nesta went to the washroom and began applying her sister’s cosmetics. “What are you doing, anyway?”

“Something you don’t want me talking about,” she heard her sister reply from the other room. Nesta paused for a moment to roll her eyes.

“You can talk about Lucien. I’m not going to bite your head off for it. Just...keep it toned down, please.”

“Feyre brought him to Velaris without telling me, so I had no chance to prepare. Plus, he asked me to dinner tonight after our strategy meeting, and I accepted, so I want to look somewhat nice.” Nesta startled, smearing her application, and cursed.

“Alone???”

“Yes, Nesta, alone. That’s what people do on dates.”

“But–“

“Nesta, we talked about this. Besides, he could have just left you in the Summer Court without telling anyone, and we would’ve never been able to get you back. If he truly meant harm, we would know by now.” Nesta still felt sick about it, but she sighed and began correcting her smudged face. “If it makes you feel better, I have no doubt Feyre has plans to put Azriel on our tail for the entire time when he wakes up.”

Nesta laughed despite herself at the thought of Azriel’s dismay when he finds out about that job. “What happened with him anyway?”

“Well, he _apparently_ was trying to keep Cassian calm in the Summer Court.” The mention of his name spun her mind again, and she had to steady herself. “But he definitely failed. If Cassian hadn’t already been banned before, he might have been banned for how much protocol he broke today.” A swelling of unexpected pride hit her, and a thin smile hit her face despite her inner troubles with him. “So he gave up to at least prevent Cassian taking his reputation down with him. Then, he winnowed Lucien and me here while Morrigan tried to calm tensions with the Summer Court. We went to talk to Feyre and Rhys in the House of Winds for a little bit, but then Azriel went to go sleep. Since Lucien isn’t allowed in the townhome, Azriel winnowed me here, and I came in alone as he winnowed back to his apartment to sleep. Lucien’s still at the House of Winds, if you’re wondering, under guard.” Her voice melded into a sharp tone on the last sentence, and Nesta felt badly for her sister, despite her own mistrust of Lucien.

“Huh.” They settled on silence after that, each giving the other a small amount of time to brood on their respective issues. Finally, Nesta broke the silence. “What is this strategy meeting you talked about?”

“Rhys, Feyre, and I are going to discuss politics when Morrigan returns from the Summer Court. You are welcome to join us.” Nesta hesitated, and Elain must have sensed it, as her voice significantly calmed. “Cassian won’t be there, if that’s what you’re worried about. Even if either of them crashes the meeting, Rhys is going to force them to go home and sleep. Morrigan got a full update from Azriel in private at the Summer Court, and she will relay to us their actions today.”

Silence hit them again for a little bit after Elain finished talking, and Nesta used the time to prepare her resolve. Finished with her makeup, she came back into the bedroom, eyes widening at Elain. Her sister was in a simple, but stunning light green sundress, no doubt trying to toe the line between what was appropriate for the meeting itself and the promised date afterward. The dress actually reminded Nesta of the wardrobe in her Spring Court guest room; she wondered if that’s why Elain had chosen it. Elain noticed Nesta looking her over.

“Well? Does it look okay?”

“You always look good, Elain.” Nesta tried to balance her happiness for her sister’s happiness with her annoyance that it was over Lucien. Elain gave her an irritated look, and she sighed. “ _Yes_.” Satisfied, Elain passed her as she swapped places with Nesta, Nesta beginning to change her clothes into one of the Night Court dresses her sister had gotten for her. She called into the bathroom. “Don’t be gross in front of me.”

“What do you think we’d be doing at the House of Winds???” was the reply she got back, and she laughed. They didn’t speak again until they started walking back downstairs, but Nesta was glad her sister had been the one to walk through the front door. She knew that the next few coming days would be hard, but at least Elain always knew how to cheer her up, even if just for today.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Nesta groaned and laid her head down on the House of Winds conference room table. Feyre and Rhysand had winnowed Elain and her to the conference room to await Morrigan, but Morrigan had asked to talk to them in private immediately upon returning. Then, Elain had left with Lucien out of politeness to her, and so now she was alone in this forsaken room. The “soon” that Feyre had told her had stretched into close to a half hour, and she was about to climb down the thousands of steps herself when Feyre finally returned, the rest of the group in tow, minus Lucien. Nesta glared at Feyre, but Feyre cut her off.

“Nesta, what in Prythian did you do to Tarquin?”

Nesta raised her eyebrow lazily. “The High Lord, right? Never met him.”

“He claims you tore his arm to pieces.” Feyre’s eyes narrowed in impatience.

“Ah, him. Well he snuck up on me without introducing himself, so...” She refused to focus her bored look.

“How?” Feyre began to circle around the table towards her.

“How...did he sneak up on me?”

“How did you tear up his arm? There’s no way you did it without powers, and the darkness powers you attacked Morrigan with couldn’t do this.” Feyre stood in front of her now, arms crossed, expecting a real answer. Nesta exchanged glances with Elain, but Elain gave her a smile that let her know she hadn’t told. She looked back at Feyre and sighed.

“I don’t know. I took off my bracelet, and then I suddenly had claws when I attacked.” It was Feyre’s turn to raise her eyebrow. “Don’t ask me – I never asked for any of this.”

“Anything else? Just claws?” Nesta exchanged glances with Elain, whose smile grew to hide her giggle. She looked back at her sister in irritation.

“Just claws.” Feyre cupped her chin in thought.

“Hm...take off your bracelet.”

Nesta looked between Elain and Feyre. “That’s not a great idea. We don’t know what will happen.”

“Actually I do think I know. Remove it, please.” Feyre put her hands on her hips and pleaded with Nesta with the frustration in her eyes.

Nesta grimaced as Elain’s eyes brightened, but she complied, placing the bracelet on the table. She stared at her hands in dread...but found no change. Feyre got an annoyingly cocky smile on her face as she re-crossed her arms, and Nesta glared at her sister in response.

“See? Now if I’m right...” Feyre snapped her fingers, and suddenly Nesta felt a strong cold on her arm. She turned in panic to see it freezing to ice before her and screamed in shock. “Relax! It’s just my ice. I won’t hurt you with it; I just wanted you to come into contact with it.” Feyre snapped her fingers again, and it was gone. “Attack me.”

Nesta glared at Feyre again. “I’m not playing these stupid games with you.” Feyre rolled her eyes, then swung a kick at Nesta to try to catch her off-guard. Nesta scooted back in her chair in surprise, putting out her hands to defend herself, and found herself blocking the kick with a wall of ice, though her chair fell backwards in response. She panicked again, as ice traveled up and down her body, but the panic just made it stronger, as she started to feel an extreme coldness everywhere along her body. She rushed to the table to grab her bracelet and put it on; her body temperature immediately returned to normal, and she turned in anger to her sister.

“What are you trying to do, kill me?” Nesta was seeing red, but Feyre just rolled her eyes again and waved her off.

“I was in control of the situation the whole time, Nesta. You were never in real danger. Anyway, it seems I know what your power is, if you haven’t figured it out by now.”

Nesta took a few seconds to breathe, so she wouldn’t assault her sister, before answering. “I take it...I absorb power from people?” She looked around the room to notice that Morrigan and Elain were silent with awe on their face, though Rhys had an infuriating smirk planted on his.

“I’m not sure if you absorb it or clone it–” Nesta’s attention snapped back to Feyre. “–but either way you can store other individuals’ powers in your body. Your claws were likely from coming into contact with Tamlin when he was shifted, and your darkness abilities were likely prompted from exposure to Rhysand’s abilities. If you were trained, you could probably eventually wield powers rivaling my own, especially with the information of your abilities limited to this room.”

“No.” Her firm answer surprised herself almost as much as her sister, but she knew exactly what training would entail. She picked up her chair and planted it hard, upright, almost splintering the base with her strength. “The last thing I need is _more_ Fae things to worry about.” Feyre looked startled and exchanged glances with Rhys, then stammered.

“I mean – we could organize it with Cass–”

“I said _no_ , Feyre.” Nesta saw Elain visibly flinch in anxiety at Feyre’s mentioning of Cassian’s name. “Now can we discuss the actual strategy meeting, or are we going to spend the entire time talking about me?” She sat down, but she maintained her locked gaze with Feyre.

Feyre and Nesta stared each other down, neither willing to back down, until Morrigan cleared her throat. “If I may, High Lady...” Feyre exhaled sharply and spun on her heels to walk to the head of the table, away from Nesta, and nodded tiredly to Morrigan. “As mentioned earlier to you and Rhys, it seems Tarquin is pretty angry about the various Night Court members visiting the Summer Court today. What I waited to mention until this strategy meeting was that he has requested a meeting with you two, as a result.”

Rhys began to let out a laugh, until he saw that Morrigan was dead serious. “He can’t be serious. No one’s that much of an idiot as to enter enemy territory with blood rubies on their head.”

Morrigan sucked in her breath. “He asked to have the meeting at a neutral Court. His suggestion was the Winter Court. He’s willing to suspend the blood rubies for the specific length of time you would be at said Court.”

Rhys and Feyre exchanged incredulous looks again. Feyre turned to Morrigan. “When?”

“Tomorrow.” Morrigan’s reply was abrupt, as if she hated having to pass the message along. Nesta wondered what Tarquin’s conversation with her had been like. Morrigan’s attention turned to Nesta. “He also said he’d be willing to forgive your sister’s threat on his daughter, whatever in Prythian that means, in addition to Cassian’s violation of his ban.”

Nesta rolled her eyes as the attention in the room shifted to her. “I didn’t _threaten_ her. Elain heard me.”

“Well...it wasn’t really a threat, but it was incredibly rude of you, Nesta.” Elain’s tone in her reply stung with disapproval.

Feyre groaned. “Great. I’m not sure we even have a choice. It sounds almost like a veiled threat to use our Court’s actions as leverage to turn other Courts against us if we don’t accept.”

Nesta and Elain snapped their heads to her, but Elain spoke first. “You can’t possibly be considering going there. You’re risking your lives!”

Rhys gritted his teeth. “I think Feyre’s right. It’s risky, yes, but if Tarquin were to ambush us, he would risk the wrath of the Winter Court as well as, most likely, the Day Court after we just gave them advance notification of the Dawn Court’s movements. And I just can’t see him accepting a position where he has to rely on help from any of the Spring, Autumn, or Dawn Courts. He has too much integrity for that.” He took a deep breath and continued. “In addition, we can have Azriel with us tomorrow. Tarquin can’t object to us bringing another member of our Court for protection, and Azriel can try to understand this meeting’s...motives better.”

Feyre nodded. “There’s no way this meeting is only about today, though I wouldn’t be surprised if it was sparked by today’s activities. There are more potential negatives to avoid this meeting than to attend it.” She turned to Morrigan, still standing before her. “Let him know we’ll accept.” Morrigan nodded and winnowed away.

“Wait.” Nesta broke in, and Feyre swiveled her gaze. “I thought we were going to talk about what happened to Cassian and Azriel.”

“Oh, that.” Feyre’s look cooled into a lazy boredom as she drummed the table with her fingers. “Turns out the carriage Azriel had been tracking was empty. Cassian ambushed it, but they found no one inside. The horses were going the right direction, but they weren’t carrying anyone. Lucky for the two of them, as I don’t think either of them could possibly handle a fight right now from what I hear about their current states.”

“But what about...the girl Lucien swapped with me?” Nesta’s stomach tanked at the thought of some innocent Spring Court girl being handed to the King of Hybern.

“Well...” Rhys exchanged nervous glances with Feyre. “There’s not much we can do, unfortunately. We have no idea where they’re going or of their present location. We’d be playing darts on the map of Southern Prythian. If it makes you feel better, the person he swapped with you was Alis with a shapeshifting potion.” Her eyes twitched, as her stomach suddenly felt even worse. “I’ve spoken to Lucien further, and he has said her nephews have also been taken to a safe location in the meantime.” He tried to give her a reassuring smile, but her eyes grew distant. “Alis isn’t a lightweight. She can handle herself for awhile, and don’t think I won’t try to gather information about their location too if I can get any. But there’s no point blindly trying to rush into the Spring Court; it would be more likely that one of us would be killed than actually find her right now.”

Nesta hunkered into her seat in frustration. A few moments of silence passed before Feyre stood up.

“Do you have any questions before we suspend this meeting until tomorrow, after we return?” Elain and she both shook their heads, and Feyre and Rhysand winnowed out. Elain turned to her sister.

“Alis will be okay; Lucien said she is deceptively powerful. But we’ll find her eventually, okay Nesta?” Nesta lifted her eyes slowly and spoke in a cool tone.

“Thank you Elain, but I kinda just want some time to myself. Go enjoy your time with Lucien.”

Her sister stepped back in a small bit of surprise, but she caught herself, bowing with a smile and leaving the room. Alone in the room, Nesta dropped her head in her arms on the table. She hadn’t meant to involve someone else in her mission to get Feyre, and of all people to get tripped up in this mess…

She sighed. This day was just getting worse and worse – she didn’t want to think about the potential problems that awaited her sister tomorrow. And she was helpless to do anything about it unless she trained with the very person she couldn’t face right now. Even then, there’s no way she’d be prepared to fight within the next few days. She twisted her face as she realized she had wasted an entire month she could have used to prepare for helping to protect her sister once she was back. But once again, Nesta Archeron let down her entire family out of a selfish need to pout in times of stress, letting others do the hard work for her. Elain had helped prepare Nesta for when she was ready to get settled here and had helped do errands for the rest of the Court, Feyre had been literally risking her life in the Spring Court, and she...she had spent her month walled up in a small townhome, unwilling to even talk to anyone other than Elain.

_The sacrifices you made for others_.

Cassian’s line from a few hours prior struck through her mind, and she scoffed at herself. Where was that woman now? The second she got dragged to Prythian, her drive to save her sister had immediately been consumed by the hatred she constantly clung to. And it ashamed her.

She let out a strangled cry of frustration as she stood up. She couldn’t just sit around, doing nothing still. She had to do _something_ , help _somehow_. She was going to rescue Alis if she could. And she knew one person who would help her. She wasn’t going to let her internal issues hold her back from saving someone else’s life, not this time.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

An hour later, panting, she finally reached her intended destination and banged hard on the door. She made a mental note to ensure she was _winnowed_ out of the House of Winds in the future. She heard a ruckus from inside, but no one answered the door. She banged harder this time, her second swing flying into the air as the door opened before her.

“ _What_ –” Cassian cut off his angry retort as he saw her standing in his doorway, impatience littering her eyes and hands on her hips. His clothes, she noted, looked ruffled and hastily thrown together – she must have woken him up.

“First of all, your tunic’s on backwards.” He blinked at her without reaction. “Secondly, I need your help.” And she pushed past him into his apartment, not needing an invitation, his face still frozen in place.


	9. Chapter 9

Nesta walked into Cassian’s living room, hearing the door shut far behind her.

“And what does the great Nesta Archeron need my help with so much that she can’t wait a few hours for me to sleep?”

“Please, I don’t have that kind of ego.” She turned around and noticed him pulling his tunic off and turning it right-side-out, showing off his toned body in the process. She narrowed her eyes as her body reacted anyway, knowing he likely waited to do so intentionally. “That’s called projection.”

“Maybe so. But maybe I have a point if I can hold your stare that long.” Her eyes rose to his, lit up in the same style as the grin he wore, and she realized how obvious she had been. She turned around before her cheeks incorporated their familiar burn, and she walked towards his couch.

“I–” Her voice abruptly cut off as she noticed the empty corner of the room. “What happened to the medicine I was using?” She spun back around, eyes still slits.

Cassian shifted uncomfortably as he pulled his tunic back on. “They took it yesterday. As I said, I only had it for a few days more at most. We don’t have an infinite supply of it. I’ve already probably used more of it than anyone _ever_ , to be honest.”

“But, your wings.” He shifted again. “Show me your wings.” Her words came out as an order with sheer lethality, and the grin on his face had completely faded.

“Nesta...” The response written on her face carried with it a cold rage that hit its mark with him as he gave in, spreading his wings slowly and carefully. She could tell unfolding them still caused him pain, and her heart pulled at her. Her face relaxed in relief at the sight of them, though, as she had worried they had…

“You shouldn’t give up on them.” His eyes dipped, and her heart pulled so strongly that she almost stumbled forward. He moved to fold his wings back, but she stepped directly in front of him. “ _No_.” His eyes widened in startle at how forcefully the word came out of her mouth. “ _Do not_ be ashamed of your wings. They are still yours, and I am not letting them take them from you.”

Cassian grinded his teeth. “Nesta...”

“Stop. Just stop. Stop giving up on them! If they want to take your wings, they will have to lock me up because there is nothing in this world I won’t do to prevent it. They’ll have to take them over my dead body.” The anger in her voice at his attendants had risen into a strong maelstrom, flashing brightly through her wild eyes. He just stared back forlornly as she fiercely held his gaze. She knew what it was like to lose the entire essence of what it meant to be herself – she was not about to let it happen to him, too. She knew he could survive, just as she knew she would survive her calamity as well. But that didn’t mean he had to go through it. “Let me see them.”

He held her gaze with a grim face for a moment, but he reluctantly turned around for her. Her face fell as she looked over his wings, still in the same state as she saw them the last time she was here. No wonder he was so depressed about them. She ran a hand along the upper edge of his left wing, softening her touch at his shudder, feeling the hard bone underneath, and her eyes widened. There hadn’t been any tendon growth in the area, but it still felt different to her somehow. She got on her toes to look at the bone closer, and saw healthy color coming back to the bone, though it was in odd splotches, shaped like a...

Her eyes shot open. “Cassian.” Her voice was unsteady and low, and he turned around to meet her eyes. “You need to train me.”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “Can we do it tomorrow? I’m exhausted; someone woke me up, remember?”

“No. You don’t need to fight. Just...” She threw her bracelet off in the corner. “Hit me with your fire.” His face spooked, and he shook his head.

“Hell no. That would kill you.” She looked at him, irritated.

“You don’t have to use _your whole power_. Just...” She put her hand in his. “Light it on fire.” He swallowed and grimaced.

“Nesta.”

“I don’t care how much it hurts, okay???” She looked at him with a strong intensity, looking as deep into his core as she could. “Do it.”

His eyes shot back and forth between her eyes and their interlocked hands, but he finally clamped his eyes shut and a small fire came forth, one that barely licked their hands. Even still, the pain was excruciating from the heat, though she knew he was going as lightly as he possibly could. Nesta bit her lip and closed her eyes. She reached inside to try to find her sister’s ice to cool it off, and the pain instantly stopped almost as soon as it had started. She opened her eyes wide in excitement, but was instantly met with disappointment instead, as she found he had stopped burning her hand. She gave him a look of annoyance.

“Cassian, I need you to do this, _please_.” His breathing was rapid, and pain was heavy in his eyes.

“I can’t hurt you like this, Nesta. If there’s something you need me to do, there’s a better way to do it.”

“No. I need to be able to...you’ll see. Just please try to push through. I’m never going to learn if you cradle me.” 

“There’s a difference between ‘cradling’ and ‘not intentionally hurting.’ If you want me to train you to do something, tell me and I’ll figure out a better way. I don’t have a ‘safe mode’ for my powers.” He exhaled heavily and pleaded with her in his eyes not to make him go through that again, and her heart nearly broke at the sight. She averted her eyes in a downcast expression in response.

“...fine. Go and sleep. I’ll be down here when you’re done. I still need to talk to you when you wake up.” He opened his mouth to reply, but he gave up at her expression, retracting his wings, shaking his head, and heading upstairs. As soon as she heard his bedroom door shut, though, she found an open space in the room and started trying to summon his fire.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Nesta laid down on Cassian’s couch, breathing hard. She had been working at it for the better part of two hours, and her lack of progress was frustrating her. Sure enough, she had been able to summon the flames pretty easily, but controlling them was another thing entirely. She couldn’t risk sending out any strong flames until then, or else she might hurt herself or burn down his apartment. The best she could do was lick cold fire around her hand, controlled, but also completely ineffective. To top it off, she had worked herself into complete exhaustion. She punched the couch and cursed, eyes watering. She had to master this, for his sake. For the sake of his wings. She turned on her side towards the couch and started crying. She tried to close her eyes to block it out.

And opened them to a different light. She moved a little, groaning and noting the added weight of a blanket on top of her, and pushed herself into a sitting position. The strong aroma of eggs and vegetables hit her nose as she did so. She ached everywhere, but she tried standing up and staggering into the kitchen, where she found Cassian cooking. He looked over her and put a small smile on his face.

“Morning. And I thought _I_ was the one who was supposed to be sleeping.” She blinked at his comment. “Normally, I would’ve moved you upstairs and taken the couch when I found you asleep last night, but I didn’t want you to freak out about the new scenery.”

She swallowed. “It’s morning?” He looked up at her and gestured to the eastern window.

“Yeah, you were out for awhile; see for yourself.”

She rushed to the window and realized he was telling the truth. The sun was rising in the background. She moved to leave in a panic. “I have to go. I need to talk to Rhys before he leaves.”

“Woah, woah, woah.” He left the kitchen from the other entrance in a hurry and blocked her exit. “Let me winnow you home first.”

“I don’t have time for that.” She tried to sidestep him, but he moved with her, and an annoyed glare lit up her face. “Let me through.”

“Just listen to me _for a second_ , Nesta. Think about what you’re planning on doing. After not sleeping at the townhome, you’re now going to go talk to Rhys in the same dress you wore yesterday, wrinkled from sleeping, and with bed hair, covered in the scent from my apartment.”

“Does that bother you?” Her reply came in the form of a low, irritated growl.

“Actually, no. I don’t care what Rhys thinks. And I also quite like how you look at the moment.” He winked and put a mischievous grin on his face, prompting her to roll her eyes and pat down her hair and dress. “But Feyre is probably with him, and she is going to be relentless about it if you do, and I’m going to go on a wild hunch and assume you don’t want that.”

She scrunched her face and cursed at the validity of his point. She was already going to have to deal with questions from Elain, and she hadn’t even done anything to deserve them. “It’s time-sensitive. I don’t have time to change.”

He exhaled, then shook his head in exasperation. “Watch my food, and I’ll bring him here for you to talk to. Does that work?” She rolled her eyes again, but she nodded. He turned to leave. “Just don’t touch it,” he hastily added, “for obvious reasons.”

She eyed him and deadpanned. “So if the food is on fire, I’m to leave it be. Got it.“

“Just make sure the apartment doesn’t blow up, please,” he responded with impatience before winnowing into air. She walked into the kitchen to watch the pans and, about a minute later, she felt him winnow back into the living room with another person, who she assumed to be Rhys.

“Cassian, this better actually be important. We need to leave for the Winter Court soon; Hybern may be tracking my winnows still, so I want to fly to our meeting this afternoon.” Rhys’s voice got louder as she heard him move towards the kitchen with Cassian, and she walked to meet him. “I–” His voice cut off at the sight of her there, leaning against a cabinet, arms crossed, and his gaze went rapidly from her back to Cassian in confusion. “Why...would–“

“I asked him to bring you here.” Her voice was matter-of-fact, and he turned to her. “I want one jar of that salve for his wings. Just one.” She heard Cassian grunt in irritation besides Rhys at the request, but he kept his mouth shut as Rhys regarded her expression.

“Do you know how valuable those salves are?” His voice was cool, but steady.

“Do you know how valuable his wings are?” Her reply cut through the air with a keen edge as she pushed back at his challenge.

Rhys sighed. “You don’t need to talk to me about the importance of Illyrian wings, Nesta, believe me.” He studied her, then glanced at Cassian’s averted eyes and sighed again. “Fine. One of them is almost empty anyway; it only has about two applications left. You can have that, but after that I can’t spare any more. Not with the Dawn Court suddenly siding with Hybern for whatever reason. We can’t produce them here. I’ll have Morrigan bring it by...” He flicked his gaze between the two of them again. “...in a few hours, I guess. Anything else?”

“Yes.” She stopped about a foot in front of him, arms still crossed. “Don’t tell Feyre about my request. I’m done with my sisters getting involved with my business.”

Rhysand raised his eyebrows at the sheer audacity of her request of a High Lord, but he laughed. “I should bring you to some of our hostile negotiations.” He thought for a moment. “She’s my mate _and_ your High Lady; I’m not going to lie to her.” A smirk lit his face. “But I’ll give you a week before I voluntarily tell her.”

Nesta rolled her eyes. “Fine, whatever. Just get me the salve.”

Rhysand raised his eyebrows even higher at her tone, but he motioned for Cassian to winnow him away. When Cassian returned, he was staring at her wide-eyed.

“Why didn’t you correct his assumption?”

“Why should I? If he thinks something that isn’t true and doesn’t ask, it’s not my problem.” She casually took an apple from his fruit rack and bit into it, rolling her eyes at his continued stare. “Look, I’m not going to get involved in the idiocy of the ‘what-are-and-what-aren’t-they-doing’ mentality some certain...nosy people here have. Especially considering my training may lead me to stay over here other nights in the future as well. If it bothers you, you can go make the correctional tour of the Night Court.” She moved aside so he could get back in the kitchen, but he didn’t move, so she continued, avoiding his gaze. “Besides, you’re my mate, so it’s not like it’d be a huge scandal.” She saw the muscles in his shoulders tighten out of the corner of her eyes as she struck the intended cord, and her lips tugged in a smirk of her own at the success of her words. “Now take me outside my room so I can wash up. I’ll be back for breakfast to talk about what I needed to talk to you about.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 _Mate_.

The word drummed through Cassian’s mind as he finished preparing breakfast.

 _Mate_.

It was a word he had heard thousands of times in his life.

 _Mate_.

But hearing her call him hers...caused something in him to change. Like a gear shifting in his chest to unlock a part of him he didn’t know existed. It made him crave that word off her lips again, crave her presence. Seeing her panicked reaction when he had spit out his feelings the day before had discouraged him, despite her final words. But then...

He cursed to himself in frustration as he plated the breakfast dishes to await her arrival. He was never going to understand Nesta. She could make him think one thing and then throw him completely off-course the next minute. Not to mention the complete impertinence she showed towards Rhys, though he would be lying to himself if he didn’t say he appreciated her concern for his wings.

Or the way she was completely indifferent to what anyone else thought of her, he noted with an amused smile on his face. She rode her confidence on her sleeve and let others make the choice either to follow her or make way for her. She didn’t take no for an answer and she spoke her mind. Though...

His smile dropped into a look of uncertainty again. He just wished he could get a better read on her. Despite her being his mate, it seemed her moods were unpredictable, even to him.

“Why the long face?” He looked up, silently cursing his blocked nasal passages at not alerting him of Nesta’s presence. She was dressed in combat pants and a lightweight black shirt, both a little loose on her. She noticed his gaze and scowled. “They’re Feyre’s. I don’t normally wear stuff like this, but I figured it would be easier to train this way.”

He smirked. “It’s fine.” In truth, she could make _any_ outfit look good, as far as he was concerned. But he wasn’t about to give over that much power of the conversation to her. She rolled her eyes at the non-compliment, and he continued. “Can we at least eat, or do I have to skip that too for your time schedule?”

She raised an eyebrow as she sat down. “You’re in one of your fantastic moods, I see. I would never deny you the opportunity to stuff your face unceremoniously.”

“I’m just trying to flesh out the situation. You still have told me literally zero about what you want.” She ignored him and began to eat, and he sighed and rolled his own eyes. “Feyre told me you declined training.”

She looked up in irritation. “I changed my mind,” she replied shortly before returning to her food.

He sighed in extreme irritation and narrowed his eyes, but he thought better of his reply and halted his tongue. Instead, he changed the subject. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

“I want to go find Alis.” She didn’t even bother making eye contact this time. “I was hoping you would help me.”

“No.” Her eyes shot up at his declining of her request, and he continued, coolly. “I have no doubt Rhys told you everything I would tell you, so I don’t feel like repeating him.”

She exhaled from her nose, and she glared at him. “And what happened to me getting to choose for myself?”

His eyes narrowed back. “I have no problem with you fighting, even on your own, but I’m not sending you somewhere completely unprepared to be able to defend yourself against some of the horrors that lie outside this city, let alone near the King of Hybern. Let me train you for a few months first.”

“You’ll be with me. I’m not undefended.” She straightened her posture in her chair and crossed her arms and legs.

He scoffed in frustration. “And what happens if my powers are blocked? We’ll be sitting ducks with me being unable to fly.”

“But I’m–” Her hand hit the table with a thud, shaking the plates and glasses, as she stopped her speech abruptly, though she maintained eye contact.

He leaned back in suspicion, crossing his own arms. “You’re what?”

She stared at him for awhile in thought, breathing hard, before wiping her face with her napkin, slamming it on the table, and standing up. “I can see this was a waste of time.” He stood up as well in exasperation and opened his mouth. “Don’t bother,” she cut him off as she stormed out.

The feeling of uncertainty cut into him again like a thousand small daggers, as he sighed and silently cleaned up their breakfast.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Nesta stood outside the apartment she had walked to immediately after blowing off Cassian. She hadn’t meant to be so harsh to him, but...he would never allow her to do what she was trying to do. And it _was_ necessary, though she was having a hard time bracing herself for what she felt she needed to do. She held her fist in midair, counting to three, when the door opened in front of her. Amren stood in the middle of the doorway, arms crossed and a neutral expression plastered on her face. Nesta shuddered; there was a feeling of offness whenever she was around Feyre and Rhys’s top adviser.

“You going to stand there forever?” Amren’s tone came with no intonation, no subtext. Nesta steeled her nerves and replied.

“I...think you’re the only person who can help me.” Amren studied her and turned around.

“I’m not helping you with Alis; your High Lord and High Lady gave specific orders. Please don’t bother me about something like this again.”

“No, wait!” Amren paused with her left hand on her apartment door at Nesta’s cry. “It’s not...it’s not about Alis. It’s about my powers.” Amren turned around, and Nesta put up her right hand, showing off the cold fire she could get to flicker around it. Amren snorted.

“You’re not going to be able to do anything with power that weak. Besides, this is something you should be asking Cassian. He is in charge of combat training, not to mention he would be the expert on _his own power_.” Her eyes seemed to gaze through Nesta, disinterested, but she continued. “Why come here?”

“Because I need to be able to use my powers at full strength right now.” Her words finally got a reaction out of Amren, albeit muted, as she leaned against her doorway with slanted eyes.

“And this isn’t about Alis?”

Nesta looked Amren dead in her eyes with an intense gaze as she replied. “No, it has nothing to do with Alis. I’m not looking to be able to fight right now. I promise.”

Amren sighed and motioned for Nesta to enter her apartment. Nesta stepped inside, quietly shutting the door behind her, still uneasy being in the Second-in-Command’s presence. Amren sat on her bed and gave her a lazy look. “Explain to me what you want and I’ll... _consider_ helping.” Nesta’s eyes widened.

“So there’s a way–” She cut herself off at the slight thinning of Amren’s eyes, so she nodded instead. “I’m trying to heal Cassian’s wings.” Amren’s lips curled in curiosity. “I just thought, since...I can absorb power, that maybe I could do the same with healing powers too. Since we have Dawn Court magic involved in the medicine–”

“–you were planning on trying to use Dawn magic yourself.” Amren finished her sentence, and she nodded.

“But I haven’t been able to really use my powers with any strength or control. Can you help me? I don’t care what it takes, but I do know that Cassian doesn’t have much time to wait. If the infection returns...” Her voice drifted off as she clenched her fists in anger at the situation and at the knowledge she could have done more for him had she not wallowed in self-pity for so long after Hybern.

Amren thought for a long time, breathing slowly with her eyes shut. When she finally opened them, she wore a look of concern. “It will be a massive strain on your body. Are you sure you want to risk it?”

Nesta nodded firmly without hesitation. “I’d do anything for him to keep them.” Amren studied her, then put on a thin smile.

“Careful. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you actually cared that he was your mate.” Nesta merely stared back without answer, and Amren raised her eyebrows.

“Alright, then. Do you know the seven red siphons that Cassian wears? They keep his power in check so he can control it, for it would leak out of him dangerously otherwise. There are...certain other objects that work the reverse manner, however, for those whose genetics or life events have vastly limited their magic output. They are known as amplifiers. They are dangerous for normal Fae or Illyrians, however, as amplifiers will cause a person’s energy to leak excessively while wearing them. I suspect you have too much energy to qualify for a normal usage of one, especially with how powerful, if uncontrolled, your magic is for you to harm Tarquin and pin Morrigan.” She went to a drawer in her dresser, opened it, and took out four dull grey bracelets. 

“When you wear these, they will glow as they absorb and externalize your power and allow you to more readily use it. They are valuable, but I don’t mind sparing them if they are being used for the wings of our military commander. Their lifespan varies by caster, so if you need to, change them as they burn out. _Do not, however_...” Her voice became very harsh, and her eyes glared at Nesta, as she put the bracelets in Nesta’s hands. Nesta felt a warm glow in her hand. “... _wear more than one at the same time_. Their power factors, and you can quickly use your body’s entire energy supply without realizing it, killing yourself. Don’t make me have to explain to Feyre how her sister died on my watch.”

Nesta nodded, and Amren released the bracelets into her hand. Nesta turned to leave, but Amren put up a finger to wait, dropping another vial from the dresser into her hands. Nesta looked at Amren in understanding and simply nodded, before exiting to try to heal her mate.

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Nesta breathed for a few seconds outside Cassian’s apartment, trying to keep her body from shaking. She knew this was a risk. She wasn’t even sure why Amren would let her do this. All she knew was that she needed to do this, no matter the cost, no matter the toil to herself. She couldn’t let Cassian fall into the same type of depression she had – she couldn’t let him lose his wings. She couldn’t let him lose an integral part of himself. 

Steeling her emotions and clenching her left fist tightly to calm herself, she pushed the door of his apartment open to find him in the living room, talking to Morrigan. Both of their eyes turned to her. She opened her mouth to speak, but Morrigan spoke faster.

“Don’t worry, I was just leaving.” Morrigan nodded to Cassian, then walked past Nesta without exchanging eye contact. Nesta gaped for a second, then turned to Cassian.

“What was that about?”

Cassian shook his head. “Don’t worry about it.” He paused to acknowledge her change of clothes, one of the dresses Elain had gotten for her. “I see training is out the window now.”

“I’m actually here for your wings.” Her words must have struck a nerve, as Cassian’s spine straightened, and he spun to her.

“If that’s all you’re here for, don’t bother.” She gritted her teeth and took a step back in response. His reaction had come out of left field for her.

“That’s–that’s not the only reason I visit, Cassian.” The hurt on his face was crushing her, and she pressed. “What’s going on?”

The look on his face softened, and he shook his head. “Forget it.”

She stepped up in front of him. “You can tell me.”

He eyed her distantly – her heart twisted further as her mating bond cried to her – before replying. “I asked first. At breakfast,” he clarified at her confused look. Her eyes dipped. “I don’t mind you not telling me things, Nesta. But recently...it’s just felt like you’re using me, that I’m part of some plan I know nothing about. I feel shut out. Even if you weren’t my mate–” The word rippled through her body, and she dipped her eyes lower. “–it would be painful to be kept this far out of the loop with something that involves me. I don’t understand why you can’t talk to me about something you’re asking for my help with.”

“It’s not like that.” Her reply came out quiet and soft. “Things just...might not be what they seem. I want to know more about what I’m doing before I bring you into it.” 

He dipped his head too at her words, pain still showing on his face. “Can you tell me _anything_?”

She sucked in her breath. She knew that, if she told him her plan, he would stop her. There’s no way he would let her risk herself for him. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, then raised her head to make eye contact, forcing a small smile. “Let me heal your wings, and I’ll tell you afterward. Deal?”

He studied her eyes, and she felt awful, though she knew he would only see that her words were true in a literal sense through their immature bond. “Promise?” His words came with a vulnerability she wasn’t used to from him, and her stomach sank. She swallowed, then nodded after a brief delay.

“I promise. I’ll tell you first thing after healing your wings.”

He studied her for a second, then he motioned to the bottle Morrigan had set down on the living room table. He let loose his wings for her, as she grabbed the salve and brought it to his back. From behind him, she prayed he would forgive her as she silently slid a bracelet from her right boot onto her left wrist. Instantly, she felt a rush of warm energy, and the bracelet shone a bright red – an indicator of the fire she was storing from him, she supposed. She unscrewed the lid and put her hands in the salve, smearing it along both as if it were hand soap. She felt the power rush through her body as the bracelet shifted from the red to a bright orange. She sucked in a breath, put her hands on the tip of his wings, and began to try to channel the healing energy of the salve from her hand into his wings.

Immediately, she saw her hands glow softly, as the tendons in his wing began to reconnect. As she moved along the wing, she saw the uppermost muscles stretching to meet the bones, reconnecting his various nervous and muscular systems. She was only done with a quarter of his left wing or so before she started to feel a tired pull at her own eyes and muscles, though. She had been so overwhelmed with joy from her initial success that she hadn’t realized how much energy she was exerting. She stared at his wings in frustration. If she had passed out for half a day merely from trying to channel small flickers of fire...who knew how long she’d be out if she passed out again. And the work she had done would be for naught if the infection returned to his other wing. She stared blankly at the dimming light in her left bracelet.

 _I can’t fail_. _I can’t give up_.

Her resolve kicked in, and she got a second bracelet out of her boot, slipping it onto her right wrist. Her body rushed heavily with energy in response, and she could feel the magic ripple through every muscle, every pore, as her skin began to glow alongside her bracelets. She put her hands on his wing and saw the Dawn magic dissipate into his wings immediately without effort, the muscles rapidly connecting in his left wing. Soon after she finished the left wing, the light in the left bracelet kicked out, and she grunted at the massive exhaustion that hit her. She braced herself on his back to maintain consciousness as she stumbled forward, and he turned his head in concern.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah...sorry,” she grunted as she climbed down his back slowly to the floor to reach in her other boot for the other two bracelets, swapping her current ones out and breathing in deeply at the rush of energy that flowed back into her. She stood back up with considerably less effort and brushed herself off, finishing her sentence in a more comfortable, taunting tone. “Just tripped, reaching on my toes. Your wings are too big.”

“Funny.” His voice matched her tone from the other side of him as she began to work on his other wing, dissipating the energy easily with two fully-powered bracelets, watching all the systems grow like vines across his right wing, spreading the tendons between the bones and reconnecting the spinal tissue. “Never had a female complain about that.” She watched as the final tendon joined to the outer edge of his right wing and smiled at his fully healed wingspan, at the flight she knew he would get to enjoy again, though she felt her energy rapidly leaving her body again, much faster this time.

“Is that...so.” Her retort barely came out, as she struggled to stay upright, still gripping his back and watching her skin glow stronger as the bracelets rapidly lost color. “Hey, Cass...”

“Are you sur–” Her vision went dark, and his voice cut off. All she was aware of was her sliding down his back, losing her senses completely before she ever landed.


	10. Chapter 10

_Lights of varying colors. Mountains sprouting from the ground. Oceans appearing._

Beautiful imagery bloomed at a quick pace around a young woman, unsure who or where she was, not that she was particularly conscious enough to care or understand, even if she did know. She marveled in her dazed state at the scene before her.

_Grass, flowers sprouting. Fae working together. Cities being built._

A sense of euphoria washed over her body, and she gave into the lights and sounds sprawling around her, letting it consume the little attention she had left. She closed her eyes and relaxed in the feeling of the warmth of the sun on her skin.

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“Finally.” Feyre sighed in relief at the skyline of Velaris appearing on their horizon. Rhys and she had been flying for hours back from the Winter Court, needing to share the information they gathered in their meeting, but unwilling to alert Hybern to either of their winnow movements. Rhys squeezed her hand with his mid-air and smiled at her.

“We’ll be able to get to her in time; don’t worry. Tarquin says she’s safe.” Feyre smiled back. It had been a long meeting with Tarquin, and she had been surprised to find out that the meeting had nothing to do with her Court after all. It had been a pretense for negotiations of a different sort, ones that hopefully would save an innocent life and help chip away at their blood rubies, all at the same time.

“I know, Rhys. I just don’t want to tire myself out, when we have to leave for the Wall today almost as soon as we land. But I guess it can’t be helped.” Azriel had decided to go to the Winter Court early instead of winnowing them in to scope the situation out, and, when they had arrived, he had said they were safe and there were other matters he needed to attend to. Trusting his judgment, they had let him go, but now Feyre was regretting that decision. At least they were back home now, though, as they swung around to make a landing in front of the House of Winds.

“Feyre, is that...Mor?” Feyre looked where Rhys was pointing at. Sure enough, Morrigan was sitting in front of the front doors of the House of Winds, back to the doors, one leg outstretched and one bent on the ground in front of her, elbow on her knee. She lazily eyed them as they landed in front of her. “Mor, we need to assemble any members of the Court who are present. Amren, Cassian, Az if he’s here.” Rhys’s tone was strong, but Mor didn’t even move. Her mouth opened to speak, but no words came out.

“Mor.” Feyre’s tone was significantly harsher. “Are you on something?” Morrigan shifted her gaze slightly over to Feyre, and Feyre gasped at the life drained from her reddened eyes. Feyre’s face calmed. “Is everything okay? What happened?”

“I...I didn’t–” Morrigan choked out a few words, but tears started falling as soon as she did. She took a minute to compose herself, then she looked back at Feyre. “Your...your sister’s dead, Feyre.”

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The woman opened her eyes, and found herself studying a young girl, dressed in what looked to be ceremonial clothing, splashed with oranges and yellows. Hands...she didn’t know whose hands, were tending to the girl’s broken leg. She instinctually tried to widen her eyes at the extent of the injury, but she found she couldn’t, and she fell backwards into a void from the resulting shock, the image disappearing in a blink.

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“We were waiting to make funeral arrangements until you got back. Besides, I don’t think Cassian will let them take her, at least not yet.” Morrigan still stared blankly straight ahead as she explained what happened, unable to look Feyre in the eyes. “I should have realized. I just–I’m such an idiot, Feyre. I was right there.” Feyre’s stomach felt like it had been forcibly ripped from her torso. She felt Rhys’s eyes on her, but she barely even registered the gaze. This had been the last thing she had expected to happen in Velaris, of all places.

“Take me to her.” Feyre spoke a single, somber line, and Morrigan nodded. Mor stood up with significant effort, grabbed both of their wrists gently, and winnowed her to Cassian’s bedroom door.

“They took her here, because he insisted on being with her every moment. He has refused to let anyone else examine her after the attendants ruled her death initially; he won’t accept their...assessment of her condition. Since they knew we would wait for you no matter what, they haven’t fought him about it.”

“I’ll let you visit with her.” Rhys spoke softly to Feyre, whose eyes were finally beginning to water. “Do you want me to take Cassian with me?”

Feyre didn’t respond at first, then shook her head. “No, he deserves the right to be here with her.” Rhys nodded and motioned for Morrigan to winnow him away. Feyre knocked softly on the door, then pushed it open slowly. As the room came into view, the first thing Feyre noticed was Cassian kneeling against the bed, head pushed into the comforter, not even acknowledging her visit. “How...how’s she doing?” The words felt hollow, as she saw Nesta’s face drained of color and her chest devoid of movement, but she needed to say them, and Cassian at least stirred his head up, though he didn’t take his swollen eyes away from her sister.

“They say she’s dead, but she’s not, Feyre. I don’t care what they think. I would know if she died; she’s my mate. Something...something’s keeping her here with me, even if we can’t see it.” His words barely came out, and she knelt by him, observing her sister as she replied quietly.

“Did you tell the attendants?”

He scoffed forcefully. “‘She never accepted the bond.’ ‘It’s too immature for you to know.’” He spoke in a whiny voice, imitating the healers with disdain. “Not to mention the condescension riddled in their face. They think I’m too biased to ‘accept the reality of the situation.’” He brushed Nesta’s hair across her face with his thumb. “But she’s there, Feyre. Somewhere. I don’t know how. I don’t know where. But I will be here until I know.”

Feyre studied his face, then turned back to her sister. And she began to pray to the gods of Prythian that Cassian would get the opportunity to tell Nesta the words written all over his face.

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The young woman fell in darkness for what seemed like eternity, then another image snapped into view around her. She was dancing a series of intricate steps around a ballroom, across from a woman who registered deep within her. Still half-conscious, she tried to push the memory of the woman forward, but it wouldn’t come. She could only feel her base emotions, a mix of nervousness with a slight hint of optimism and happiness at the glow of the woman’s face across from her. The dance ended, and as her body leaned in to whisper to the woman, her soul fell backwards again, and she plummeted back into the pitch black void.

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Feyre and Cassian had knelt by Nesta’s side for about two hours when the knock came at the door. Cassian still didn’t move, but Feyre took a quick glance to see Elain standing in the doorway, shaking and pale. Feyre excused herself, Cassian giving a small nod in respect, and joined Elain outside the room, shutting the door behind her. She motioned down the stairs, and they hugged tightly for awhile in Cassian’s living room, Feyre letting Elain cry into her neck.

“Feyre...do you think Cassian could be right? I don’t want to get my hopes up but...” Elain’s voice was quiet and choked, as she backed up to look Feyre in the eye. Her eyes were troubled with a deep sorrow, and the pain in Feyre’s chest doubled.

“It’s possible. Rhys was able to store my soul after...what happened to me.” She still wasn’t comfortable discussing Under the Mountain with Elain, and she definitely didn’t want to bring it up right now with her sister.

“But even then you had to...” Elain’s eyes dipped, and Feyre swallowed. She didn’t respond, merely hugging Elain close and letting the silence envelop them again.

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The fall this time was quick, but the image that emerged before the girl was startling. It was fragmented, and she couldn’t make out any of the people in the room she was in. All she could see was stone tile and darkness merged together, the room torn into mere pieces of images.

“If...then brin...do...” Garbled audio filled her ears, and she tried to cover them in pain, but her body still didn’t answer to her. She wanted to scream, and the resulting shock shoved her backwards into another freefall, the vacuum surrounding her and quelling the noise.

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“ _How could you_.” Feyre’s eyes were slit like daggers at Amren, as she headed a meeting at the House of Winds with Rhys and Morrigan. Rhysand had told her it would be okay for her not to attend, but she needed to be here. Besides, she knew Cassian would take care of Nesta’s body in the meantime. For now, she was directing her anger and sadness at the person responsible for this. Amren responded with her usual, casual look, though there was the smallest bit of concern mixed in.

“What extent would you go to if it were Rhysand’s wings on the line, Feyre?” The words struck Feyre deep, as she knew that she would have acted the same as Nesta, given the same situation.

“That’s irrelevant. You knew what she would do; we could have tried to help her with Cassian’s wings some other manner.”

“With all due respect, High Lady, you know there was nothing we could do for his wings. I warned her fully of the consequences of what she was doing and the dangers of using multiple amplifiers, but it was ultimately her decision to make. I would have acted the same if it was you with Rhysand...or Morrigan with Azriel, for that matter.” Mor rolled her eyes beside Amren, despite the despondency underlying the room.

“Still–” Feyre gritted her teeth, as she knew Amren had a point. Agency had benefits, but it most certainly had major costs as well. And if her sister had freely been willing to pay those costs...she backed up in her chair and allowed her head to sink in the company of her trusted Court, knowing the feeling was shared among everyone in the room. She felt the comforting massage from her mate along her bond, mourning alongside her.

Rhys coughed, and she nodded that she was done admonishing Amren, at least for now, so he began to speak. “Due to...everything that has happened in our absence, we will keep this meeting short, and only go over essential information. Tarquin’s meeting was to inform us that one of his citizens was in need of help, and that he would continue to suspend our blood rubies if we helped him rescue her. He called the meeting under the guise of anger over Morrigan and Cassian in order to avoid suspicion from other Courts, as he wishes not to get involved in our conflicts.”

Morrigan straightened. “What citizen of his is involved in our conflict?”

“Alis.” Amren and Mor snapped to attention. “He knows their general location; he had discretely sent spies to intercept their carriage. After they found it empty – later confirmed by Azriel and Cassian after they sent it on its way to avoid suspicion – they searched out and found the actual cavalcade moving at a slower, stealthy route through the forests aligning the Western borders of the Spring Court. We...would have to move quickly to intercept it.”

“Do it.” Feyre interrupted Rhys, and he eyed her as she spoke. “Nesta would have wanted us to save her.”

Rhys swallowed and nodded. “We’ll be down Cassian certainly, so I was hoping you would join me Amren, since your blood ruby is also suspended.” Amren nodded in responded to his words. “Your involvement is up to you, Morrigan; I can see Nesta’s...accident–” He caught himself from using the word death. “–has impacted you, and it’s your choice whether you want to stay here with her or help us rescue Alis.”

Morrigan made eye contact with him and shook her head. “As our High Lady said, Nesta would have wanted us to save Alis. Let Feyre stay here with her sister, and I’ll go with Amren and you to intercept the caravan.”

Rhys nodded. “Then I’ll adjourn the meeting. Amren and Mor, meet me here in a half hour after you’ve prepared.” They both nodded and winnowed away, and he pulled his mate into his chest. Feyre closed her eyes and allowed her emotional exhaustion to pull her into a deep sleep against him.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The young woman started to feel a strong wave of tire as she fell into a new image, surrounded by fields in all directions. An Illyrian stood across from her, attacking her rapidly with a sword, as she parried each blow, looking for an opening. He looked familiar to her, but she couldn’t place it. She studied his features, as her body seized an opening, only for him to feint and spin, knocking her backwards with the blow of his sword against her. Her mouth opened to speak against her will.

“She got to you that bad, huh?” Her body stood up and patted itself down, and the Illyrian scoffed at her.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He rushed her, and she dodged to the side, stopping her sword at his shoulder before it could do real damage, merely causing a surface wound.

“You sure about that? You seem distracted.” He scoffed again and walked a good distance away, readying himself for the next round of parrying. “Seriously, I knew Nesta was a rough one to handle, but this is a whole new level.”

 _Nesta_.

The word reverberated throughout her head. There was a deep meaning attached to it, but...her head hurt. She was focusing in and out from the intense reactions she had to the name and the male in front of her.

He lunged for her and she blocked it, but he spun a kick into her stomach, knocking her back again as the wind went out of her. “I’m not sure I’d call myself the one that’s distracted.”

She snorted as she took her time getting up, waiting for her air to return. “To think the most powerful Illyrian in history can handle any combat opponent thrown in front of him, but not a human girl.” She smirked at him as she stood up.

He scowled as he braced his sword again. “How about we keep the talking to a minimum, Feyre.” _Feyre_. _That name too_. “Your family is nothing but a bunch of bossy, know-it-all females.” He jumped at her again, and as she parried, she found her soul fall backwards again into nothing.

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Feyre woke up in Rhys’s and her townhome bed in a cold sweat. Her dream had been simple enough, remembering her training session with Cassian upon his return from the human realm, but she could have sworn she heard her sister’s voice in her head, if only for a few words. She threw her sheets to the side, quickly changed, and made a beeline for Cassian’s apartment.

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 _Nesta_. _Feyre_.

The next image emerged around the young woman, who was trying to keep herself awake, as the names flashed through her head. All she could see was a stone tile, but her vision was quickly focusing in and out. Her body was in intense pain and what felt like...wings were searing across her back. She heard a familiar scream and a memory returned to her. 

_That’s my voice_.

She panicked as her hand barely moved in response to the scream and her soul backed away, nearly falling into the black again. Her back hit a hard object instead, but the image faded as the floor beneath her gave way. She instinctively grabbed for the object and found her hands, her actual hands this time, gripping tightly to a rope, glowing with a rainbow energy. She looked down and gulped at the vast darkness beneath her. She began climbing, one notch at a time, closing her eyes tightly to keep from staring into the abyss. After a few minutes, she felt a warm energy in front of her as the rope began to level off. She saw a soft red light in front of her, glowing as if to beckon her. She crawled slowly along the rope, reaching out for the light. The tips of her fingers grazed it, and she felt herself get sucked in.

And found herself watching through another set of eyes at a woman laying in bed, pale and not breathing. She felt the shock ripple through her, though she couldn’t move again, as she realized that was _her_ body. More memories began flooding through her mind.

 _My name is Nesta_.

The body she was inhabiting shifted sharply. “Nesta...?” The voice was quiet, with deep pain layering her name. She recognized it on a visceral level, but the name escaped her.

_Ca...ca..._

“ _Nesta??!_ ” the voice was much stronger now as he stood up. “Where are you?”

 _Cassian_.

The name hit her with a sharp rush, and she didn’t know how she knew him, but she just knew...him. She tried to reach for him, and he shifted again. “Nesta, stay here. Don’t leave me, please.”

 _I...I won’t_.

She struggled to communicate with him, but she was feeling her soul start to run low on energy. She kept trying to reach for him, but she didn’t know how, as she was seeing through his eyes, feeling his body. The door flew open and Cassian’s body turned to see Feyre run in, wide-eyed. 

“Cassian, I think...I think I heard Nesta.” Nesta's mind dawned on a strong realization.

 _Feyre_.

“Yeah, that’s Feyre, stay here with us.” His voice was shaking, and Feyre’s face fell to confusion, then struck with understanding.

“Nesta, please, see if you can talk to me.”

 _I’m really tired, Cassian_. _I don’t..._

Her voice drifted off as she heard Cassian turn fully to Feyre. “She says she’s tired. It’s okay, you can sleep soon enough. Just try for now, Nesta. Try to reach out for Feyre.”

Nesta concentrated hard on Feyre, trying as hard as she could to speak to her. She couldn’t get the words across, but she kept trying to reach for her mind, to talk to her.

Suddenly, Cassian’s hand moved up with an orange glow at her efforts, then fell limp. She felt his eyes widen. “Nesta, please do that one more time, please.”

 _I’ll try, Cass_...

She used her last bit of energy to try to reach again as he ran to the bed. She watched with amazement as she felt him grab her energy, pushing the glow into his own hands as he held her body, dumping it into her body. She watched as the energy filled her body, though it felt like her entire soul was drained as a result, and a tug at her back began, dragging her backwards, as she had no energy to fight against it.

 _Good...bye, Cassian_...

Her words got cut off as she got yanked backwards sharply, back into the pit of darkness.

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Lights blinded Nesta and her head pounded as she tried to open her eyes. There was a calm silence, and she felt like she was floating in air. Was this what death was like? 

Suddenly, pain flooded through her body, and sounds started to fill her mind: a gasp, a woman crying. She felt a strong weight hit her body and she grunted. The light began to fade, as her vision began to focus. She smelled Cassian and Feyre before she saw them, and her eyes widened in awe, turning her head slowly due to the pain in her muscles, taking in the room she was in.

“Uhnn...” She groaned at the pain, though she reached for Cassian’s side, and he gripped her hand firmly with his in response. His head was buried into her neck, and he was...crying? She observed him softly with her eyes for a few seconds, then closed them to block out the pain and to think. She swallowed in pain, but let out a short laugh. “You have emotions other than arrogance? When did this happen?”

He pulled his head from the groove of her neck and she opened her eyes to see him smiling at her, laughing at her comment. “You’re back.” His comment came out quietly, as if he barely could believe his own words. 

She rolled her eyes, energy slowly returning to her body. “I told you; no one gets the privilege of never speaking to me again.” His smile grew and she couldn’t help but smile herself in response. She turned to Feyre, hands covering her mouth and eyes streaming tears down her cheeks, and stuck out her tongue. “What’s that face for? I told you I was ready to use my powers.”

“Oh, shut up, Nesta.” Feyre ran to her and hugged her tightly as Cassian shifted off her body to make room. Feyre lifted away from her and wiped her eyes. “We do need to talk later, but I’ll let you get some rest first. I need to tell Elain you’re okay, anyway.” She turned to leave, but stopped to eye Nesta further. Nesta rolled her eyes again.

“I’ll be fine, Feyre.” Indeed, she could sense the pain rapidly retreating from her muscles as she felt the Dawn magic healing her at an accelerated pace. “I’ll see you later, I promise.”

Feyre nodded, then gave a knowing look to Cassian before leaving. Nesta turned to Cassian as she sat up, his hand supporting her back. His smell invaded her senses, and she breathed it in deeply, glad she was back in her own body, experiencing him again. His eyes searched hers, and she moved to speak, but decided against it, giving in to her body’s initial desire. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him to her as she laid down again, pushing his lips against hers. He returned her kiss firmly, and she held it as long as she could, tousling the base of his hair on his neck with her fingers, before letting her grip go, her right hand falling back down to his. He breathed hard as she sat up with him, looking into his eyes with a wry look.

“So what’d I miss?”


	11. Chapter 11

“Are you kidding me?” Cassian sat up suddenly from his bed, startling Nesta. “How can you be so callous? Do you not understand what just happened?” He turned to her, and his eyes were slits; she wasn’t sure if she had ever seen him this angry. “You basically _died_ , Nesta. You chose to risk your own life with no input from anyone who cares about you, without even bothering to _let them know_ what you were doing.” He looked at her stunned face and put his hands in the air, breath jagged and rapid. “Do you not understand what it was like for me to see your cold body? To be told you were dead? How about for your sisters?”

He paused to catch his breath, so Nesta narrowed her eyes in defense, stood up, and took her opportunity. “It was the only way to save your wings.” Her words came out strong, despite the uncertainty troubling her from his words.

“My wings?! You think my wings matter at _all_ if you’re dead, Nesta? I would gladly give them up to keep you from dying.” 

Nesta swallowed and dipped her eyes. She knew he would, because she had seen him do so firsthand for Azriel. She didn’t want to know what he would do if he knew her life was at risk. But then again, that’s why she supposed she hadn’t told him her plan in the first place. She gritted her teeth. “But we don’t both...we don’t both need to go through life like this, Cassian.” She returned her gaze firmly to his. “I don’t want you to have to spend eternity missing a core piece of your self.” Her voice quieted, and his expression softened. “I know what it’s like. It’s not something you really ever can get used to. All you can do is adjust to it. The thought of you having to live your life adjusting, rather than living, like I have to...I just couldn’t bear to let it happen. And there wasn’t another way to save your wings.” Her gaze lightened as she saw his demeanor further relax at her opening up. He studied her for a long time before speaking.

“You could have told me this beforehand.” His voice was still gruff and upset, but it had tendered some. Nesta rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.

“You would’ve stopped me.” Her tone was matter-of-fact as she solidified her stance, challenging him to deny it. Instead, he just put on a grimaced smile and shook his head.

“Of course I would. Because you were doing the exact opposite of what you wanted to do.”

“What in Cauldron are you talking about, Cassian?” Nesta was getting impatient, as she hadn’t hoped to have to have this argument to begin with.

“It’s true that I would probably have to adjust to not having wings, but it’s not the end of the world. I’d have wallowed a lot, sure, but I could have found a way to be happy, even without them. But you’re right that I don’t know if I could find a way to live properly without a core piece of myself.” He starting stepping closer to her, and his scent washed over her senses. She blinked and returned her eye contact, arms still crossed and standing her position despite the ever-shrinking distance between them. “What you’re wrong about–” He stopped right in front of her, leaning in close enough to her ear that she could feel his breath brush against her cheek. She kept her arms crossed to feign disinterest, even as her stomach felt like it was twisting rapidly. “–is that that core piece, what I value most in life, is not my wings.” His lips barely broached her ear, and she closed her eyes at the contact, savoring it as long as she dared before responding.

“Hmph. I hate to interrupt your speech, but sweet talk doesn’t win arguments, Cassian. Especially predictable sweet talk. I stand by my decision.” She pushed him to arm’s length, but kept her hand on his chest. He looked at her questioningly, and she felt her heart take its usual tumble. She calmed her nerves, preparing herself to say what she had promised herself she would tell him if she survived. She wasn’t going to let him worry anymore, not when she knew what she felt. “I wanted you to have both.” His eyes sharpened, and she continued, keeping her gaze dull to avoid showing her nerves grating against her. “This was the only way to do that. And now...”

The door to the room busted open, and she pushed him a bit further instinctually, stepping back herself and turning away to cool her face off, which she hadn’t even noticed was burning red.

“Nesta?” Elain’s choked voice caused her to spin her attention toward the door to see both of her sisters in the doorway, Elain crying and Feyre leaning against the doorway with a smile on her face. Elain rushed to her and pulled her close. She returned the hug tightly, and they embraced for a few minutes until Elain pulled back. Nesta’s heart plunged even deeper at the sight of the pain in Elain’s face.

Until her own face erupted in pain as Elain slapped her. She saw initial movement from Cassian as he had to restrain his instincts out of the corner of her eye, before turning back to Elain, whose face was twisted in a fury Nesta wasn’t sure she had ever seen.

“What were you thinking? I have been _bawling_ for _days_ because _my sister_ willingly let herself _die_. I have been making _funeral arrangements_ for _my sister_ , to be prepared in case Cassian was wrong.”

“Elain...” Nesta broke in, but Elain quickly cut her off again.

“Don’t you ‘Elain’ me. How would you feel if Feyre had done it for Rhys? You would’ve just been like ‘yeah, Rhys’s _wings_ are more important than my sister’s _life_ , that makes sense?’” Elain took a second to calm herself, Nesta unable to do anything but stare. “Don’t ever hurt me like that again, Nesta. Do you understand me?”

Pain was flying through Nesta’s chest at the thought of what Elain had gone through, and she opened her mouth again to try to speak.

“No. Don’t say anything. I am too angry right now. We will talk later after I’ve cooled down.” Elain fiercely held Nesta’s gaze for a few more seconds before storming out of the room. Feyre stood, wide-eyed, and motioned that she was going to follow Elain. Nesta nodded and Feyre left, shutting the door behind her. Nesta looked up at Cassian, trying to prevent herself from crying. He looked like he was struggling to figure out how to help her, and she wasn’t sure she could take any more emotion right now. So she spoke to him in a hushed voice, choking on her words.

“Take me home, please.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A loud knock on the door woke Nesta up hours later, her eyes still red from crying herself to sleep. The night sky greeted her from the outside window. She sat up and wrapped the blankets closer, trying to collect her voice.

“Who is it?”

“It’s me.” Elain’s voice was shaking on the other side of the door.

Nesta paused for a moment, before replying. “Come in.” 

The door opened quietly, and Elain stepped in, eyes downcast, shutting the door behind her. She looked up at Nesta’s face and her own face twisted in pain anew. She quickly averted her eyes again.

“I’m sorr–”

”You don’t need to apologize, Elain.” Nesta interrupted her sister, not wanting to see the two of them hurting anymore. “You were right. What I did was selfish, and I didn’t think of you or Feyre or anyone else. I should be the one apologizing to you.”

Elain looked back up at her sister. “How about neither of us apologize and we call it even.” Nesta considered the imbalance of that request, but calmed her reply, as she knew better than to deny Elain’s forgiveness. She nodded, and Elain studied her. “Can I ask you a serious question, Nesta?”

Nesta tried to force a smile, patting the spot next to her down on the bed in agreement. “Sure.” Elain walked over and sat next to her, and they laid down next to each other, staring at the ceiling.

“How did Cassian react when you...woke up?” Elain chose her words carefully, and Nesta breathed slowly, before deciding to explain, downplaying the physical side of it, of course.

“Why are you so afraid of what you have with Cassian?” The words came out sharply, and Nesta swallowed sharply at the request, but she sensed her sister continuing and kept quiet. “Is it really just a hatred of the mating bond? You talk down your connection all the time without realizing it. I thought it was just a wish not to discuss it with other people, but I see it when you talk to him as well.”

A silence fell between the two of them as Nesta pondered an answer. “I don’t know.” She felt her sister’s eyes glance over at her. “I can hint with him how I feel. I can give in sometimes and let myself have small tastes of our bond: touching him, holding him, kissing him. But I can’t outright say it. Can’t outright give in. I feel like it would be...wrong of me, somehow, to plague him with such a troubled person. He deserves to be happy.”

“And you deserve to be alone?” Nesta didn’t answer, another deep silence falling between them, this time lasting minutes. Nesta wondered if her sister was regretting the conversation, until she spoke up again. “He really cares about you, you know, on a deeper level than I think even you understand. It’s easy to say it’s the mating bond, but I don’t think it is. You hold yourself back from loving people so much. I think he sees that love inside you.” She paused, and Nesta looked at her, meeting her concerned look. “I also think he would disagree with your assertion of what makes him happy.”

“Cauldron, I’m a mess.” This conversation was causing a torrent of thoughts to flood through Nesta’s mind. Nesta covered her face with her hands, and Elain giggled next to her.

“You’ve always been a mess, Nesta. But we love you for it.”

“Thanks, Elain.” Nesta stuck her tongue out at her sister as her sister smiled again. As Nesta laid back against the bed, looking up at the roof again, she realized that maybe there was some form of peace she could find in this world.

“Do you want to be with him?” Until that question came out of her sister’s mouth. Nesta groaned.

“Elain!” Her sister laughed beside her, then yawned.

“You don’t have to answer to me. I just want you to think about it. He deserves an answer and you deserve to pick what _you_ want, not some twisted idea of what you think _he_ wants.” His words from earlier that day flashed through her mind. Her sister didn’t say anything else, and they laid there together, Nesta thinking about Elain’s words, until she heard her sister fall asleep next to her.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Nesta didn’t bother to knock as she strode into Cassian’s apartment, startling him as she shut the door behind her. He opened his mouth but couldn’t make a sound, as his eyes were glued to her, scanning her from her styled hair, curls painstakingly teased through it, to the V-neck and fit of her black dress, to the black & silver heels she had changed into after her sister fell asleep. It was an outfit fit for the Night Court. His eyes went up to hers, and the taunting smile returned to his face as he broke the silence.

“Shouldn’t you be asleep? It’s like 2 am.”

“I could ask you the same question. I’ve gotten enough sleep to last a while, thanks. I wanted to spend the night with you.” His smile grew, and his eyes lazily glided over her again as he took his time replying.

“If you wanted me to take you dancing, you should have come by earlier. Velaris loves its nightlife, but the bars still close in an hour or two.”

She pointedly eyed his loose trousers and tunic. “Then why are you wasting your time talking to me instead of changing out of your nightclothes?” He raised his eyebrows in amusement, but the grin remained planted on his face as he went upstairs.

She nearly let out a gasp when he returned, sharp in a dark black dress shirt, an open charcoal grey hopsack blazer, and matching black trousers, all perfectly tailored for his body. He noticed her stare and winked. “Has cutouts for the wings too.” He showed off, spreading them fully as he walked towards her without his outfit even moving. She rolled her eyes, though she was secretly pleased to see her plan had at least brought his wings back to normal health.

“Yes, I’m sure you get compliments from all kinds of women about it. You don’t need mine.” She held his gaze as he quickly closed the gap in the living room floor.

“I’ve never actually worn it before.” He stopped directly in front of her and smiled coyly as he maintained eye contact, neither willing to give in to the other’s challenge. “Never found the right woman for it.” Her face burned up in response, to his obvious delight, and she narrowed her eyes in annoyance as he extended his hand. “Shall we?”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Cassian apparently knew the owner of one of the clubs, which Nesta supposed she should have been able to safely assume from his political position, and they had been granted permission to stay and dance well past closing time. Their dancing had felt like a game the whole night: one person would take the lead, pushing the other, then they would back off just as the dancing got tense, forcing the other to chase the dance. Even the slow dances had felt like high stakes were involved, each partner trying to tell a story to the other with the rhythm.

By the time they were done and Cassian winnowed them back to the apartment from the locked club, the sun was already rising and both of them were exhausted, holding each other up to prevent themselves from falling.

“Ugh, my feet are killing me.” Nesta smiled at Cassian and reached for her shoes as she replayed the night’s events in her head. She didn’t need Rhys’s ability to know Cassian was doing the same thing, as he grinned back at her.

“Well you could have prevented that by not trying to keep up with me tonight.” His smile back at her was roguish, and she rolled her eyes.

“I remember a different story. Either way, there’s no way I’m walking home, so either you can winnow me or I’m sleeping over here.”

“Do I get to choose?” His hopeful tone prompted a skeptical look and sigh from her. It seemed the game started by their dancing hadn’t ended yet.

“Fine. I’ll stay over.”

He merely kept his grin as he put his other hand on her waist and kissed her again as she’d let him do all night, allowing the two of them to indulge in one more before bed. “Let me get changed back, and the bedroom will be all yours. I’ll take the couch.”

She smirked after him, still struggling to remove her shoes, as he leapt up the stairs. For as well as he could keep up with her mentally, he was remarkably dense sometimes. Finally loosening the last ankle strap, she got her other shoe off and gingerly followed him up the stairs. As she pushed open his bedroom door, he turned around, in the middle of removing his dress shirt.

“Can I help you?” He raised an eyebrow. She crossed the room slowly, then took his hands in hers, pulling them off his buttons.

“Yes.” Her answer was simple, as she followed it with a deep kiss, moving her hands where his previously were, finishing the job of unbuttoning his shirt. He responded in kind at first, but broke apart when she pushed on his lips with her tongue. She looked up at him in surprise, his face lit with concern.

“Nesta...who knows what we’ll end up doing if we start messing around too much after tonight.” She rolled her eyes playfully and gave a coquettish smile.

“Oh, I’m very well aware of what we’ll end up doing, _Cassian_.” She rolled his name off her tongue, achieving the fire in his eyes she sought for. She moved to kiss him again, and he backed off again. She twisted her face in a frustrated but conceding manner. “Do you not want to?”

He leaned in to her ear, breathing on it. “Believe me, if you want to, you’ll be saying my name more than a few more times tonight.” She shuddered and gripped his shirt edges at his words, closing her eyes to take in his smell, his sound, his touch better. He kissed down her ear for a few seconds before continuing, the touch sending shivers down her skin. “I just want to do this right.”

“Oh?” She spoke shortly in order not to betray her reaction. “How so?” He leaned back to graze his lips against hers, one hand on the back of her neck and the other on her back to support her.

“Well.” He kissed her once lightly. “I’ll take my time.” Another light kiss. “But it’ll be passionate.” Another kiss, deeper this time. “And you’ll enjoy every second of it–”

After his last line, she took charge of his lips, stealing the kiss from him early and making him earn his freedom from her grip, a challenge he did not particularly work hard to win. When they finally broke free, she looked up into his eyes, her steel blue eyes twinkling. “Then show me.” She smiled provocatively as her words finally broke the patient goading in his eyes, unlocking the hunger she was looking to unleash.

His hands moved down to her waist as hers wrapped around his neck, and they met their lips in a deep desire, each feeling as if they were searching the other’s soul. She didn’t notice his hands slide down until she felt him lift her body off the ground, and she wrapped her legs around him in surprise. He pushed her back against the wall, and she whimpered as she felt the rush in her build to an insatiable level, her core heating as she continued to make out with him, pulling at the back of his shirt. He pulled away at her sound and gave her a taunting smile, though he allowed her to remove his shirt by pinning her body with his against the wall, before returning his hands to exploring her thighs.

“Don’t worry, you’ll have plenty more times for this. Tonight just needs to be more special.” She felt him trace every word with his lips along her unguarded neck, as she moved her hands along his solid torso, his firm muscles unyielding to her touch. She nuzzled into his neck in request, and he backed up to let their lips meet again.

“Wait.” The word was out of her mouth before she could stop herself, and every muscle in his body instantly stilled. He looked at her, concerned, and a tear escaped her eye at how quickly he responded, despite herself, at the reminder of her past. This concerned him more, and he began to drop her legs, so she batted him and snapped at him coaxingly. “Did I tell you to put me down?” His look of concern quickly morphed into a questioning one, and she wrapped her arms around his neck again as she composed herself.

“Before we...continue, I want to say two things to you that I want you to hear. That you need to hear. Okay?” He looked deeply into her eyes, but he simply nodded. “First, I want you to know that I know you would’ve been there for my sister and me had you known about Ianthe.” His eyes widened at her words. “Please don’t feel guilty about that. I’m happy where I am, with you. I know you did everything you could to keep your promise. And since you made that promise to me, I’m absolving you of responsibility for it.” He swallowed with emotion, and she kissed him to drive her point home.

“And the second?” His voice was choked, and she kissed him again, not breaking the kiss for a long time.

“I love you too, Cassian.” She made sure to keep her grip on his neck so she could say it with her eyes to him as well. He swallowed again, and she saw a tear start to form in his right eye. She smiled and wiped it away with her thumb. “Looks like the roles are reversed this time, huh?” She saw a tremor in his lip as he stared into her eyes, seeing the truth she pushed forward to him this time, and she kissed him.

The kiss he returned was unlike any she’d experienced from him yet. It had all the tenderness from his face written into it, mixed in with the passion from their night together. It felt as if he was pouring his entire love for her into the kiss itself. When they finally broke, she looked at him seductively.

“So Cassian...” She kissed him lightly, and toyed at the back of his hair with her fingers. “How about we get back to where we were?”

The corner of his mouth slanted upward at her words. “I think it was somewhere around here.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Nesta stared at Cassian sleeping next to her, her body wrapped up in his arms and wings. He had proceeded to fulfill his claims to her, as he had provided her several waves of pleasure before taking her himself. She had gasped at the initial pain, but knowing he was happy, and knowing he made _her_ happy, had gotten her through until it adjusted into pleasure itself. And when they finally both broke together, she felt like she had never made a more right choice in her life.

He stirred next to her, opening his eyes to see her studying his face with a smile. He smiled back and kissed her gently. “You should sleep.”

“Why should I...when my waking life is better than my dreams?” She nuzzled herself against his body. “Besides, I’m done sleeping. I slept for like 48 hours, remember?”

He groaned. “Don’t remind me.” She felt him breathe in the scent from her messed hair. “What did I do to deserve you?”

She smiled into his chest. “Be an egotistical bastard, apparently.”

“Well, I guess I’m set for life, then.” She leaned back to match his grin with her own, and they kissed again. She felt him pull her closer with his wings in response, and her smile broadened. “Can I ask you something?” She pulled away to look inquisitively at him. “Where did last night come from?”

She rolled her eyes and rested her hand on his cheek. “You just don’t listen to me, apparently.” His eyebrow rose, and she laughed. “I’m sure a lot of people would want to take credit for it, but I had decided to before I ever healed your wings.” His eyes widened, and she tilted her head. “Remember? ‘It wouldn’t be a huge scandal.’ ‘That’s not the only reason I visit.’ ‘I wanted you to have both.’ ‘I wanted to spend the night with you.’ Any of this ringing a bell? I mean, I literally kissed you in the Spring Court.”

“But...you were so resistant to the bond. And you kept distancing yourself from me.”

“Well the first part is because the mating bond is stupid. And I still feel that way, even if I still don’t know what I’ll do regarding it. No one should be forced to choose someone – it’s not a choice anymore at that point. And the second is because I was afraid something would go wrong with my plan for your wings, and technically it did.”

He studied her expression carefully. “Do you think you were forced to choose me?”

She kissed him deeply in response. “Hopefully you don’t need to ask that again.”

“CASSIAN!” A loud, female voice came from downstairs, breaking their concentration on each other, and her eyes widened. He motioned to wait. “Are you here?” Nesta rolled her eyes backward and groaned silently. It was definitely Feyre.

“I’ll be right back,” he whispered to her, before attempting to slip out of bed, though she got in one more kiss before he did. She sat up in bed, conspicuously watching him get dressed, until he went downstairs.

It was a half hour before he returned, and he shut the door loudly behind him, hastening to her. “I hate to do this, but I’m gonna need to take you to the townhouse, then return right away.” He saw her irritation at her sister show on her face, so he kissed her and clarified. “We’re needed to help rescue Alis, but you need to be ready if you want to join us.”


	12. Chapter 12

“What?” Nesta stood up sharply in surprise, and Cassian delayed his reply as the sheets fell off her and his eyes fell on her, eliciting an annoyed glare. He shook his head to clear it and looked away as he spoke.

“We sent in a team to rescue Alis while you were unconscious. Azriel came back to let us know that they’ve had trouble infiltrating the caravan. Summer Court spies have discovered a ward that alerts the Spring Court of any movements from outside sources within the ward zone. As a result, attempted stealth missions have ended horribly, and attempted attacks have led to outmatched guerrilla warfare. Feyre just got done briefing me; we’re supposed to go in for an all-out attack to try to overwhelm their forces, despite their advantage. Tamlin’s guard is skilled, but it’s small in number to accommodate the travel. Besides, time is sensitive, as the group is almost to Hybern.” 

Cassian paused to take a breath, and Nesta could tell he was hesitant about continuing, so she narrowed her eyes further to prompt him. He sighed. 

“I know it’s not what you prefer...” He eyed Nesta warily, then immediately averted his eyes from her naked body again to avoid losing his train of thought. “...but Feyre and I were wondering if you could work with the Summer Court healers to try to use your newfound healing magic to help increase our backup forces.”

Nesta clenched her teeth. She had wanted to help actually get Alis with the rest of the Night Court, and her being in the Summer Court felt more like an appeasement than an actual strategic decision. “Why can’t I help rescue her?” she asked in frustration.

He scrunched his face in frustration, his eyes now re-gazing upon her body. “Can I at least answer your questions in your room so you can get ready during? Again, it’s time-sensitive, and you’re more than a little distracting right now.”

She rolled her eyes and sighed, but she quickly threw her dress back on and turned to him. “Take me outside my room, and I’ll check if Elain’s there.” He grabbed her hand, and in an instant of darkness she was standing on the second floor of the townhome, right outside her room. She listened against the door, and, hearing and sensing no one, opened it slowly. To her relief, it was empty, and she motioned him through, before shutting the door and window. She looked at him expectantly as she began riffling through her closet for clothes.

“We discussed this the other day. You need to be trained to fight first. Again, I’m happy to do so, but I can’t exactly do so in five minutes.”

“I didn’t mean fighting, Cassian. I’m not stupid.” She shot him a dirty look as she found the clothes she was looking for, throwing her dress off to change into them. “Why not use me as bait again?”

“Because this time, your life would be in immediate danger. They could kill you the second you walked into the forest.”

She finished putting on her new fighting pants, then turned to him, still half-dressed. “They won’t kill me; I’m too important. I’d provide protection from ranged attacks.”

“Again, can we have this convention after you finish getting dressed?” His voice trailed as his eyes were dipping against his will. Nesta scoffed.

“Males.” She turned back to her closet and began shuffling through it again. “Also, you meant ‘conversation.’”

“Exactly.” She rolled her eyes and exhaled sharply at his tone, but she finished dressing into her new fighting gear. She noticed his eyebrows rise, and she gave an exasperated look in return.

“I asked Elain to buy some in my size after I returned from Amren’s to change. Thankfully, she did. Now, can we get back to the topic at hand?”

“They could just kill Alis the second you walked in the forest, when they realize the ruse.”

“They wouldn’t know who the real Nesta is. If this ward reveals identities of those within it, she would already have been discovered, so it likely doesn’t. Thus, they’d have to capture me and figure out the rest once I’m with Tamlin again.”

Cassian rolled his eyes in frustration. “But then no one could go in and help you. And your powers aren’t developed enough for you to even stand a chance against him if he _did_ threaten you.”

Nesta gritted her teeth, but she knew he was right. Her frustration at her poor attitude the past month couldn’t excuse her being reckless with her life again.

“Fine, I get it.” She impatiently interrupted him and put her hand out in preparation for winnowing, eying him acidly. “I get that I have an asshole of a mate.”

“I thought you already knew that, sweetheart.” He winked at her in a mixed expression of irritation at her comment and masked relief at her giving up the fight, before grabbing her hand and disappearing into the air.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“You look like you’re in a great mood.” Feyre smirked at Cassian when he finally arrived at their meeting location, about a hundred meters away from the edge of the ward. “My sister take her role about as expected, I guess?”

Cassian shot back slit eyes, full of annoyance. “Feyre, you really know when to stick your nose in things that aren’t your business.” His words didn’t change the amused expression on her face, so he ignored her and turned to Amren. “What’s the plan?”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Let’s take a break. You seem distracted.” Nesta twisted her face in frustration at the Summer Court healer’s voice. They had only been working for five minutes, but the annoyed tone in the healer’s words was enough to let Nesta know that her lingering mood over Cassian and Alis was obvious. She sighed.

“No, I’m fine. I’ll work harder.” She turned to the injured man before her, and began trying to channel her powers again. Still, nothing came out.

“No, you won’t. Not until you get this off your chest. So go.” The young woman plopped across from Nesta on the floor, expectantly. Nesta leaned back in apprehension.

“I don’t think anything on my mind would be the business of some random healer from another Court.” She showed her shoulder to the woman and kept working on her abilities.

“You made it my business when you let it interfere with your ability to help the soldiers I treat for my Court.” She leaned in so Nesta could see her out of the corner of her eye. “Believe me, I don’t want to be wasting time listening to complaints about some male right now either, but I was assured that you singlehandedly healed an Illyrian’s wings from near-ruin, so I’m willing to entertain you if it helps you re-access those powers.”

Nesta turned back to her, the woman’s words succeeding in angering her. “What a sexist comment to think my issues are automatically about a guy.” She narrowed her eyes. “I happen to be upset that I’m not out there, fighting to rescue Alis, thank you very much.”

“Well, good. I got you to at least talk.” Nesta clamped her mouth in irritation. “I don’t understand why you care. Your military commander assigned you a role, and you’re still helping the mission. There’s no reason to have an attitude about it.”

“My ‘military commander’ is an arrogant, crass male who sent me here to keep me out of harm’s way and make me feel good about helping.” Nesta snorted and turned back to the injured soldier.

“Well, there’s the male.” Nesta shot a dirty look at the healer. “You can barely use your powers, and yet you’re mad at him for not letting you run yourself into a sword? Can’t wait to see the shouting argument the next time he asks you not to jump off a cliff, because you’re adamant about wanting to see if you can fly like he can.”

“Excuse me.” Nesta’s voice was low and threatening, and her blood was boiling at the extreme condescension in the woman’s voice. “I don’t believe I ever asked you for relationship advice.” A fire lit in the woman’s eyes in response.

“I know.” The healer’s face turned smug and arrogant. “Unfortunately for you, I’ve met your Commander. And considering your...I don’t even really want to call it a personality, I bet he has multiple side wom–”

Nesta didn’t have time to think before her body reacted, flinging itself onto the healer. She tackled her to the floor, rolling and trying to pin the woman, anger building. “Take it back,” she grunted as the woman kept adjusting her weight to prevent Nesta from winning the struggle.

“Heh.” The healer clearly was combat-trained, and she was exerting significantly less effort maintaining her position in the fight than Nesta. “If he has to deal with this all the time, maybe I should offer to help relax him too.”

Nesta’s eyes lit with darkness, and she clouded the other woman’s vision with it, allowing her to gain the advantage, finally pinning the woman. She held her hand up, now lit with Cassian’s flames, and held it over the healer’s head. “Say another word about Cassian, I dare you.”

The healer stilled her face beneath Nesta, sighing in relief to Nesta’s confusion. “Relax. I was just helping you get to this point. Concentrate on your powers, where they’re coming from. Try to pull healing energy from them instead. Take your emotions and channel them towards something good.”

Nesta slit her eyes further at the realization she had been manipulated, and she made sure to push off the healer with her lit hand, muttering a fake apology to the woman’s irritated shout. She closed her eyes and tried to visualize her powers, as they continued to flow through her. It took her work, but she managed to isolate a pool within her, chaotic and uncontrollable. “I can feel some sort of power...core, but it’s elusive. It keeps changing, and I can’t focus on it.”

The other woman sat up gingerly, rubbing her side to quell her burn with her own healing magic. “Don’t worry about trying to control it. You won’t be able to this early. Just try to take the open valve you have right now, and use an emotion that would make you want to use healing magic instead.”

Nesta turned to the injured soldier and swallowed. Her right hand was still on fire, and using the wrong power could seriously hurt him worse. Still, if this would make a difference for Cassian and Feyre... 

She closed her eyes and thought through her life, remembering all the people who got hurt under her watch and how she had wanted to be able to heal them, trying to bring her healing magic to the forefront of her powers. Her father, Feyre, Elain...they all scrolled through her mind, but she could feel her powers hadn’t shifted. Rage at her father, Tamlin, and the King of Hybern consumed all her concern, and the memories led only to strengthen Cassian’s fire from her instead.

_Cassian_. Maybe if...? She shut her eyes tighter and tried to remember how he had looked at her when she first visited him in Velaris, how he had demanded out of pride that she leave and not see him again. She had wanted to do anything to help him, but she had forced herself to avoid him. And despite not seeing him, not a day had gone by that month where the hurt on his face hadn’t haunted her thoughts.

She remembered the guilt she had felt the moment he had returned her to the townhome after his confession and how it had consumed her core and pushed her to vow to herself to protect his feelings. But even then, her body had to force out the tears against her will, and she had shut down her emotions the instant Elain got home.

She felt herself cool down as tears ran freely from her tired emotions, still strung out by the healer. How aloof they both had been, not letting themselves accept their care for each other. How her heart had pulled at her to help him out of his depression...

Her hands warmed, and she opened her eyes to see them glow a familiar orange. She gave herself permission to cry out the self-disappointment at her past month and the moments she’d missed with Cassian, being so hard-headed about him. Even now that she’d been brave enough to let herself experience him, she still needed to be able to forgive herself for her initial knee-jerk rejection of their bond, or she could never truly be with him. She wiped at her still-flowing tears as she approached the soldier, putting her hands over him and channeling her sorrow into repentance, trying to help the cause in some manner in order to make up for her month’s mistake, not training to help protect her mate on the battlefield. Her hands glowed modestly, and the soldier was sitting up within a minute, groggy and still hurt, but now stable.

“Wh–where am I?”

“It’s okay.” The healer rushed over to his bedside. “You’re back in the Summer Court. We’re going to turn the tide against Tamlin and get Alis back.” She sent a smile over to Nesta, who shrugged back as she scrubbed her hands against her eyes, still not thrilled with the healer’s exploitation of her emotions. “We have a secret weapon.”

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“Ungh–” Cassian leaned against a tree as his fire suddenly surged through his body against his will, catching him off-guard, leaving a few seconds after it began. He cut off his grunt almost as soon as it slipped out of his mouth, but it still alerted Azriel’s attention, who silently hurried over. They had gone in three pairs to try to divert the defending forces into minimal scout units, Rhys with Feyre and Morrigan with Amren, leaving Az to accompany him. Mor and Amren were the actual extraction team, and the other two teams were intended to distract the caravan to buy them time.

“What?” Azriel’s whispered concern was met with a look of disdain by him, unwilling to accept doting on a battlefield. He pushed off the tree, straightening up and brushing off his clothes.

“It was nothing; I’m fine.” Azriel sent him a look of warning but left it alone, retaking his position a few steps ahead. Cassian shook his head to clear it, but they had only cleared a short distance before the attack hit him again, this time bringing him to his knees in shock. His lungs felt emptied and his stomach felt like it was missing, and he crumpled. Azriel looked back at him sharply in concern and moved to close the distance between them, but Cassian saw a glint in the trees, and he winced as he forced through a shout. “Az!”

His warning allowed Azriel to dodge the arrow aimed at his throat, but it still grazed his arm. Still unable to move, Cassian felt pressure in the notch in his right shoulder, and he looked over to see an arrow had hit him as well. Ditching the plan due to the circumstances, Azriel dove for him, winnowing them away immediately.

The next few moments were a blur for him, though he heard a woman scream in fright as they hit hard tile. Az’s yells were muffled in the background as Cassian sat up slowly and looked at the arrow, his eyes widening. Through the torn cloth of his tunic, he could see the crimson blood draining from the wound was intermixed with a jet black discoloration, working its way slowly across his shoulder and chest. He felt strong hands grab his back, and he was winnowed away again, this time onto a bed in a white room, assumedly an infirmary. His vision started fading in and out as more cries sounded off in the background. A strong fatigue enveloped him, and he closed his eyes, having a difficult time fighting it.

Until he felt a warmth fill up his chest, flooding energy into his body. The voices began to formulate into understandable words.

“Someone get the damned arrow out of his shoulder! Come on, Cassian...” A subconcious part of him recognized the female voice, and he smiled, though it was quickly broken by the pain from someone lifting his shoulder to break the arrow and yank it out. Adrenaline shot through his body, and he felt his body get shoved back down to counteract his reactive movement, as he was finally able to open his eyes. Sure enough, Nesta was kneeling over him on his left side, a determined look on her face as her hands were on his chest. He looked down and saw the black splotches were slowly receding from her touch, though the concentration on her face was intense.

“Az...he got...hit too.” His words barely came out, and Nesta didn’t bother responding, keeping her focus on healing him as sweat glistened on her forehead.

“No, I didn’t.” He turned his head sharply to the right to see Azriel leaning against the wall on his other side, carefully watching Nesta’s movements. “The arrow just cut through the tunic; it didn’t pierce the skin. Thanks to you, I might add.”

“He can get complimented–” Nesta grunted as the orange glow of her hand began to fluctuate wildly, indicating she was losing control of her powers from the stress. “–after he is healed, thank you.” She bit her lip and scrunched her forehead in concentration, and Cassian felt an intense warmth fill his right shoulder as she put a final, strong burst of effort into healing the initial wound. Physical strength returning to him, Cassian sat up partly, leaning his back against the wall as she ripped open the tears on each side of his tunic where the arrow had pierced to ensure she had healed it entirely. He smirked at her.

“If you want to remove my shirt that badly, wait until we’re alone.”

“I’m not even going to dignify that comment with a response.” Her drained face showed no emotion, despite her bark back at him, as she backed away, satisfied that the wound had closed. “Do you feel weak anywhere?”

“Not that I can tell.” He rotated his shoulder to show Nesta there wasn’t any lingering pain or limited movement, then raised his eyebrow at her. “By the way, when did you learn to control your powers like that?”

“She had some help.” A healer attending one of the nearby beds turned and interrupted their conversation, winking at him.

“ _Anyway_ ,” interrupted Nesta irritatedly, drawing Cassian’s attention back to her. He wondered what had happened while he was gone, as Nesta’s eyes had thinned considerably. “You should stay here for a little bit to make sure the poison doesn’t return. Speaking of which, do you know what the poison was?”

Cassian shook his head. “I’ve never seen anything like that before.” Azriel gave her the same expression of uncertainty.

“I’ve never seen it either.” Cassian and Nesta looked up to see Tarquin had entered the room and was now walking towards them. “We kept some of your blood to analyze the poison, and the results are...concerning, to say the least. Instead of killing the blood cells, it seems the poison has corrupted them. Your blood, _by itself_ , was able to recreate blackened, almost-necrotic tissue that was somehow still living.” Cassian exchanged alarmed glances with Nesta. “We decided to destroy the tissue for safety reasons, rather than continue to let it grow. Let’s just say I hope you were able to heal it from his system entirely.”

“I did.” Nesta firmly responded, and Cassian noticed she had positioned her body in between Tarquin and himself.

“We shall see. In the meantime, I would ask that, despite technically still being _banned_ from the Summer Court–” Tarquin glared at Cassian. “–he remain in Adriata’s castle under supervision, until we know whether the poison is gone for good.” Nesta opened her mouth to angrily retort, but he held up his hand. “I have no problem with that supervisor being you, Miss Archeron. Or should I say _Princess_ Archeron, considering my recent learning of your sister’s noble status.”

“Nesta.” Nesta responded icily, and Cassian felt a deep pride at her informality and the stunned effect it had on Tarquin, who sighed.

“Fair enough, _Nesta_.” He drawled the last word to showcase his annoyance. “I see you two aren’t that different, after all. Either way, I want him here as little as I’m sure either of you wants to be here, so hopefully everything goes fine. In the meantime, feel free to explore the castle, but do know that your actions will be monitored. If you wish to be taken to your respective rooms, you may ask either of my children and they will help you.”

“Actually, sir–” The healer from before spoke up, commanding all three of their attentions. “–we need Nesta to help heal the soldiers in our other infirmaries first. Her commander came in so early that she’s barely been able to help at all. And I’d hate to see her have to break her word to the Summer Court.” She turned a caustic smile towards Nesta. “Don’t worry; he’ll be here when you get back.”

Cassian saw the muscles along Nesta’s back and shoulders stiffen at the woman’s words, so he put a hand on her back in unspoken comfort to whatever rift was between the two women. Nesta turned her head just enough to make eye contact with him, before exhaling in dismissal as she got up and left the room.

“Care to explain?” Tarquin gave a puzzled glance to his healer.

“Oh, I just hate her.” She saw Cassian grit his teeth in response and laughed shortly. “Sorry, I know you two are like newly mated and everything, but she is very difficult to be around.”

Cassian still bared his teeth in annoyance, but his eyebrows rose nonetheless at her comments. “We’re not mated. But I would strongly suggest laying off her in the future, regardless.”

Her eyes widened with amusement. “You’re not even mated yet? Well, do me a favor, and definitely don’t have her visit here once you are. I’d hate to see how she is at _that_ point.” Cassian actually began to growl lowly at her words, and Tarquin shot her a warning glance. She smirked, but turned to leave, swiveling her head in final words before she walked out. “By the way, Cassian, I’d _strongly suggest_ not threatening a high-ranking Summer Court citizen inside the Adriata Palace. There are far worse things than merely being banned, and you’re lucky that’s all the punishment our High Lord gave you for your vandalism.”

Tarquin gave an apologetic look at Cassian as the healer left the room, and, seeing the situation was defused, Azriel excused himself to go wait for the rest of the Night Court. Cassian merely snorted in response, plopping back against the bed in preparation of being stuck there until Nesta returned.

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Nesta stifled a giggle at Cassian, though her eyes sparkled with schadenfreudic glee at the replacement tunic Varian had given him. The soft blue and white colors severely neutralized any intimidating factors of Cassian’s character, giving off an almost-affectionate look. Cassian groaned and shot her a glare.

“I think I’d rather just spend the day shirtless. I look like I’m one of those vain pricks from the Autumn Court, spending every day drinking at royal parties and talking about how much money my family has.”

“You’ll live. It’s not like you’re ever returning here, anyway, _Prince Cassian_.” Nesta walked up to him with a smirk on her face as he groaned louder at her mocking remarks, and she grabbed his wrist, pulling him towards the hallway. “Now, let’s go take your once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to explore the castle while we wait for Feyre.” She pushed open the door to his room to find Cresseida leaning against the wall outside the door, arms crossed. Nesta frowned. “Can I help you?”

“My father said you two would be monitored. Do you think we’d let Night Court citizens, especially ‘building-burner’ over here, be monitored from a distance?” Her eyes were stony in resolve back to Nesta, who was glaring harshly at her.

“So what you’re saying is we could just start making out, and you’d be forced to sit there and ignore us?”

Cresseida grinded her teeth in annoyance, Nesta getting to her despite her efforts to ignore her personality. “Please don’t. I don’t exactly want to follow around a walking firestorm and her pet Illyrian either, so try to make this not-horrible for all of us, please?”

“Mate.” Nesta let go of Cassian and got in Cresseida’s face, her own eyes burning with temper. “He’s. my. mate. And you’d do well to respect that.”

“Be careful.” Cresseida’s voice turned guttural, and she lowered it to the point only Nesta could hear. “You wouldn’t want a PR disaster to hit your _mate_ , considering his existing tentative status with Adriata.”

“I would be careful yourself, speaking that way to nobility.” Nesta’s voice was much louder, and she made sure anyone nearby would be able to pick up on their conversation. Cresseida’s eyes widened in surprise, and she studied Nesta with apprehension, Nesta’s lips curling as she found her advantage. “Oh, you haven’t heard? My sister is the High Lady of the Night Court. Your father has already recognized me as a Princess of the Night Court as a result. So maybe _you_ should back off for the sake of _your_ status, and give us some distance in your ‘monitoring.’” Nesta looked back at Cassian, whose eyes were wide in amazement, then walked off in dismissal of Cresseida, the Adriatan princess’s muscles rigid in frustration. Nesta heard the sounds of Cassian’s boots behind her, and in a moment, his breath was in her ear as he strode alongside her.

“Maybe we should just skip past the tour.” She glanced over to see him eying her wildly, and she thinned her lips into a small, triumphant smile as they continued to gain ground on Cresseida.

“Later. Right now, let’s give her a taste of her own medicine. I know it’s been a long time, but do you know the main balcony over on the other side of the castle?” Cassian nodded at her gently. “Winnow me there.”

They were gone before Cresseida even had time to react.

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They spent the rest of the day in uninterrupted exploration of the castle, though Cassian did make sure to steal kisses from her whenever they found a moment of solace, in a hallway corner or an empty room...or a closet that they hadn’t yet ‘explored.’ Nesta still wanted to have a conversation with him about their status, about the emotions leashing her control of her powers, but that could wait until they were back in Velaris. And though she still wouldn’t admit it to anyone, not even him, she genuinely knew that now, in this moment, she could say she felt...happy.

She smiled mischievously at Cassian as they walked back into the main foyer, ready to accept Tarquin’s condemnation for ditching his daughter, but she stopped dead in her tracks at the sight before her. 

Standing before her in the middle of the foyer, beside Tarquin, Morrigan, and Azriel, was Alis.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: Minor non-con discussion. It's very important to the story, but I want to let people know before they read.

“Alis??” Nesta’s hesitation ended almost as soon as it had begun, and she took off in a full sprint towards the woman, beaming at the sight of her.

“Nesta!” The two women hugged tightly, and Nesta was overcome by a feeling of hesitant relief. With Alis back and her sister out of the Spring Court...

Her sister. Her eyes swung open and she broke the hug as an unease began to re-settle in her stomach, but Morrigan laughed, sensing her impending question. “Rhys, Feyre, and Amren are fine. They just can’t step foot in the Summer Court for obvious reasons. To be honest, we were more worried about Cassian–” Morrigan gestured behind Nesta, and Nesta didn’t need to turn around to know he had also moved to join the rest of the group in the foyer. “–but I’m glad to see _this_ screw-up of his didn’t hurt him.” Morrigan threw a knowing, sardonic smile Cassian’s way. “For once.”

“I need to speak to Tarquin about my nephews.” Alis broke in with urgency, before Cassian could retort to Morrigan’s jab. “After that, I would love to speak with you again, Nesta.” Alis’s gaze subtly flickered to Cassian, but it moved back again so quickly, Nesta was unsure anyone else caught it.

“Of course.” Nesta smiled at Alis, and Alis gave her a soft wink as she moved past her, towards Tarquin’s office. Nesta turned to Morrigan as Cassian moved in to take the now-vacant slot next to her. “Are you sure the plan went completely fine?” The unease in her chest hadn’t gone away at Morrigan’s initial response and, if anything, had risen instead. Nesta had a nagging feeling that something wrong had happened, but she couldn’t place her finger on it.

Morrigan tilted her head in confusion. “Yeah. Cassian’s...‘mishap’ caused a huge increase in activity in the camp. It provided an ideal opportunity for me to sneak in to their camp and find Alis, while Amren concentrated on distorting the visions of the individual guards near me and filling them with a sense of calmness. Obviously, Rhys and Feyre made their own splash in the meantime, decreasing the overall camp numbers, but we made sure to rendezvous with them before I returned here with Azriel.” She narrowed her eyes at Nesta. “Why?”

“I’m not sure.” Despite Morrigan’s assurances, the pit in her stomach continued to sink and her muscles tensed. “I just feel...like something’s wrong.”

“It could just be exhaustion from over-using your powers.” Azriel spoke up, his posture still lazy and relaxed, although Nesta knew he only held it that way as an image. “You did the work asked of you for the Summer Court, and you also had to heal Cassian, which was no small amount of effort.”

“Maybe.” Nesta’s voice held a shaky uncertainty even as she considered the likelihood of Azriel’s words. She _was_ inexperienced with her powers, and seeing Cassian hurt early had emotionally tired her to some degree.

“I can walk you back to the room.” Cassian looked down at her, worry much more apparent in his eyes. “It’s up to you.”

Nesta nodded, as the tension in her muscles began to throb. She suddenly felt an intense need to lie down, her legs buckling beneath her weight. “I think I’ll take you up on that. But winnow, not walk, please.”

“I’ll watch her room while she gets rest.” As Cassian winnowed her to her bedroom, Nesta noticed his eyes were clouded even deeper in concern, far more than she expected for exhaustion. But she decided to put off the questions until she woke up, letting him lay her down on her bed as the darkness of the winnow made way for the darkness of her sleep.

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Her eyes opened as she awoke to the sound of a loud knock on the door. She rubbed her eyes as she recovered from the quick, dreamless rest, but she noticed her body felt much more normal, to her solace. “Come in!” she yelled at the door as she stretched, sitting up and crossing her legs, expecting to berate Cassian for interrupting her sleep.

Instead, she found herself face-to-face with Alis as the older woman walked silently in and closed the door, an apologetic wince on her face. “I’m sorry, dear; Cassian did tell me you were sleeping. Normally, I would’ve come back later, but I think the rest of the Night Court is planning on leaving soon. And, as much as I would love your company in the Summer Court, I imagine you’d rather stay near him, no?” Alis gave her a much more decided wink this time, as she closed the distance to the bed.

“Hmph.” Nesta grunted in faux irritation. “More like he needs me around him not to do anything stupid.” A smirk lifted on the corner of her mouth as she gave a side glance to Alis. “Case in point, earlier today.”

Alis smiled at Nesta’s transparent, emotional cover, and she sat down on the edge of the bed, next to her. “How badly is he poisoned?”

Nesta snapped her attention to Alis. “What?”

“How badly was he poisoned?” A clear look of uncertainty flashed across Alis’s face at Nesta’s sharp reaction.

Nesta shook her head, gauging the mishear as being due to her just waking up. “It was a bad situation, but luckily, he came in before I really used much of my power, and I was able to remove the poison from his body.”

“That’s good.” Alis’s face warmed with a comforting glow, and Nesta rested against the headboard. “It honestly is a shame...that he has to die anyway.”

Nesta spun to her left in a jolt, her arm hitting the headboard hard by accident. “What?” Alis got off the bed quickly, backing up to create space, due to Nesta’s wild response. Nesta stood up on the other side of the bed, arm throbbing at her side, and backed away from the woman, taking a defensive stance. “What do you mean, ‘he has to die?’”

“I don’t–” Alis put her hands up in a non-threatening pose. “I didn’t say that.” The two women studied each other carefully, both maintaining their distance. “Are you okay? Maybe I should have let you sleep longer.” Alis cocked her head. “Or forever.”

Nesta took another few words backwards and narrowed her eyes in distrust at the woman, her self-protective instincts kicking in despite the seeming absurdity of _Alis_ , of all people, threatening her. This couldn’t be real. She tried to put up a defensive ice shield, but her powers still weren’t coming to her at-will. “Where’s Tarquin?”

“His office.” Alis’s voice was monotone by this point, a nervous look on her face, and Nesta tried to orchestrate a plan as she inched closer to the door.

“Stay here, and don’t follow me.” 

Nesta made sure Alis kept her back against the wall as she backed her way out of the room, heart racing as the door shut behind her. Cassian was nowhere to be found, but she would worry about that later. Immature as it was, her mating bond would’ve told her if he was in any real danger. When he had been shot by the arrow, she had immediately felt the wrench in her gut, and that pain had not escaped her until he was completely healed. Even so, at this moment, she wished that she had Feyre’s ability to contact her mate along the bond, especially with the tension rapidly returning to her muscles.

The halls were surprisingly empty as she made her way to Tarquin’s office, her heartbeat pounding harder against her chest in anxiety with every step. As she descended the main staircase, she saw the large twin doors come into view before her and strode straight for them. She was a few feet from the door when a strong grip pulled back on her right arm.

“You can’t go in there right now! My father’s in a meeting!” The sharp grab of her arm caused Nesta’s anxiety to further skyrocket, and she shoved off the woman, only realizing it was Cresseida when the princess staggered back in shock. However, the panic rising within Nesta was reaching such intense levels that she sprinted the rest of the way without thinking, opening the doors to try to communicate to Tarquin the calamity affecting her.

What she found before her blanked Nesta’s mind, as she broke into a state of pure emotion, her body stilling in cold anger at this final catalyst. For at one end of the desk, across from Tarquin, stood Elain and Graysen, and, at the other, stood Tomas Mandray, a leer lighting up on his face at the sight of her.

“Wha...who let them in.” Her tone to Tarquin was low and threatening as she avoided making eye contact with Tomas, afraid of what she would do.

“I’m sorry, father. I’ll have her removed immediately.” Nesta felt Cresseida grab her from behind and try to pull her back. Again, she tried to summon her powers to break free, but they still felt completely drained from her body.

“No, Cresseida, hold on.” Nesta felt the grip on her slack at Tarquin’s words, his eyes looking over her in suspicion. “What are you talking about, Nesta? They’ve been here.”

“Make them leave.” Her growl was unfazed by her ensnarement. “Now.”

Tomas took a few steps towards her, his dark smirk growing at her vulnerable position. “Do it yourself.”

His words finally erupted her powers from inside her, and she lit into him with Cassian’s fire, bringing him to the ground immediately in surrender and knocking Cresseida backwards with the heat. “Take another step, and I’ll kill you,” she snarled at him, and deep down, she knew there was nothing holding her back at that moment.

She felt a heavy force hit her back as Cresseida tackled her from behind, and she struggled against the woman as Cresseida attempted to pin her.

“Tarquin!”

“Bring him here.” Elain’s cry and Tarquin’s response barely registered in Nesta’s mind, though her body twitched with the sensation of a few nearby winnows. Suddenly, she felt her mind wrenched forcefully from her consciousness, relegated to a state of mere observance as she felt another person take control of her. Cresseida used the moment to win the struggle, successfully pinning Nesta’s body against the tile.

Except it wasn’t Cresseida. The woman pinning her down glowed with a golden beauty, with locks of long, stark red hair flowing over a body barely covered in scant lingerie. She leaned down into Nesta’s ear, the scent of her strangely-familiar breath triggering large bouts of nausea throughout Nesta’s body. “Remind you of good memories?”

Immediately, Nesta returned in control of her body, Cresseida re-appearing above her. She turned her head as the nausea caused her to vomit on the tile floor, Cresseida recoiling in disgust. She heard a crash before a soft, male voice spoke distantly from the corner of the room.

“Knock her out and bind our powers, immediately.” 

Nesta only managed a quick glance back at Cresseida before she saw the Summer Princess’s elbow flying towards her head, landing with a sickening pain as her vision darkened.

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“Oh thank the Cauldron, you’re finally up.”

Nesta groaned at the voice, pain pounding between her ears as she opened her eyes and felt them adjust to the bright lights above her. She tried to shift her body to look to her right, but she was met with a sharp pain from her left wrist and ankle. Looking over, she noticed that her left limbs were shackled to a bed in the infirmary, and a binding bracelet had been placed on her forearm, above the iron. She looked in anger to the woman sitting by her side on her right, finding the healer from earlier.

“What is this? Let me go, now.” She sat up as best she could to try to put some intimidation behind her words, but she knew the chains did more to negate her tone than she could ever deliver.

“This is what happens when you start attacking random people, _Princess_.” Nesta narrowed her eyes at the condescension in the healer’s voice. “You’ve been detained until we find out what in Prythian’s come over you.”

“He wasn’t _random_.” Nesta gritted her teeth. “And Cresseida attacked me. So let me go.”

“No problem.” Tarquin’s reply came from the back of the room as he stepped in through a back door. The healer opened her mouth to object, but Tarquin motioned for her to be silent. “You’ve done enough today, thank you. I can handle her.” The healer exhaled in irritation, but she stood up and walked out all the same. Tarquin gave a look of apology to Nesta as he walked over to her bed. “Sorry about that; she isn’t particularly fond of you.”

“I’ve noticed.” Nesta’s eyes were dull in a mixture of expectancy and annoyance at her situation. “You were saying I could go?”

“Formalities are formalities.” He finally reached the bedside, sitting next to her. “As for releasing your constraints, you have to understand there is a lot we need to look into still. I will, however, let you go under two conditions.” He paused to let her accept or decline, but she merely raised her eyebrows to motion for him to continue. “You need to continue to wear your binding bracelet until your bloodwork and power readings come back. And you either need to stay in this room, or the one I just came from.”

She eyed him with doubt. “Why?”

“Quite frankly, I don’t trust you. Alis said your behavior was erratic, and your behavior in my office was worse than even she described. But I will afford you the same conditions I gave to your High Lord, as a favor to him.” Her attention perked up at Rhys’s name. “Know that you will be returned here if you break either of these rules.” He stared at her harshly, before moving to the other side of the bed, working on her chains. She kept a wary glance on Tarquin as she debated her questions carefully.

“Rhys?” Her question was short and vague, designed to get as much information as possible, while also avoiding a situation where Tarquin might second-guess his decision to release her.

“Yes, Rhys. Who do you think pulled your control away so you could be subdued, to prevent you from attacking the whole room?” She opened her eyes wider in disbelief as he unlocked the second lock on her wrist, and he sighed. “If you don’t believe me, he’s in the room I just came from. You will have to see for yourself, unfortunately. Now, if you don’t have any more questions, I actually have important things to do.” He gave a sharp nod, not waiting for a response before turning tail and leaving her alone in the infirmary.

She rubbed her wrists and thought over the situation. Things weren’t adding up properly, and although she tried to work them out mentally, the reactions from Cresseida, Tarquin, and the healer had not made sense in the context of her situation. She sighed and eyed the back door of the room, not really wanting to face anyone else at the moment. Her curiosity won out, however, and she got up and strode to the door, pulling it open and gasping.

Whereas she had a single bracelet on one of her wrists, Rhys had four on each arm, with both wrists and ankles loosely tethered with long chains to the stone wall as he sat on a bench in front of it. He looked up at her arrival and smiled gently at her shock, though Nesta noticed his face was drained of color.

“I have 2 on each ankle too.” At her urgent reaction, he waved her off. “They didn’t force this on me; I asked for this, as a precaution. If something happens to you again, the others will be able to deal with you. But if I were to start attacking people, the collateral damage could be catastrophic before I could be stopped, if I could be stopped at all.”

“I didn’t attack him randomly, you know.” She shut the door as she finally walked fully into the small, stone room, which she realized to be a washroom for the disabled and injured who needed help bathing.

“I know.” Rhys maintained eye contact with her as he kept his voice even, but reassuring. “I know you saw someone different. I won’t ask who, because it’s not my business, but I figure you didn’t know you tried to burn Cassian.” Her startled reaction validated his words, and he returned his smile in an attempt to relax her. “Obviously, if you wanted to hurt him, you wouldn’t use his own power.”

She leaned against the wall for stability as she thought over his words. “Who was in the room, Rhys?”

Rhys looked at her in affirmation of her conclusion. “Besides us, Tarquin, Mor, Az, Cass, Cresseida. I have no doubt you saw a much different room.” _Because I saw it myself_. The underlying words didn’t need to be spoken, as Nesta understood them immediately, realizing she had seen firsthand how he had viewed the room through her eyes. A sickening understanding of what she had witnessed through his mind filled her with nausea again, and she sat down on a bench across from him. Rhys winced at her reaction.

“About that, Nes–”

“You don’t need to talk about it.” Her eyes shot up like daggers at his, though she tried to lace them with a softness, in sympathetic understanding. “What’s happened in your past is not my business just because I accidentally viewed it.”

“I know.” He returned her gaze with one just as strong. “But it’s something you’ll hear about in the future, one way or another.”

“That doesn’t matter.” She crossed her arms and leaned against the wall, maintaining eye contact. “Your personhood is not defined by your nightmares, and you shouldn’t feel the need to explain your past to me. It’s one thing to tell me something you want to, but you shouldn’t be telling me information like this just because you feel I need to know.”

Rhysand relaxed slightly at her words, tilting his head in thought. After a brief silence, he spoke. “That was Amarantha.”

Nesta’s eyes widened in shock. “The woman who kille–”

“Yes.” Rhys cut her off harshly, and Nesta winced in apology as her face reddened in mortification at her insensitivity.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean...”

“I know. I just _definitely_ would not like to talk about that.” Nesta nodded, but she dropped her eye contact, and a thick silence filled the air for a long while, before Nesta broke it with a change of subject, keeping her head down.

“Do we know what happened?”

“Yes.” She saw Rhys shift out of the corner of her eye as he replied. “Well, I have a strong idea, anyway. My powers change how I perceive the world significantly, allowing me to experience other people’s experiences or thoughts or input my own into others’ minds. Since you have my powers, albeit weakened, in your system, this is true for you as well. I think that whatever toxin was in Cassian’s body got into your power supply, corrupting it. It made your strongest negative thoughts alter how you observed your surroundings.”

“My thoughts?” Nesta sat up straight, eying Rhys again with a careful, guarded glance.

“Yes. It’s the same thing as what you saw when I took over your mind.” Rhys shifted uncomfortably in front of her. “I wouldn’t do that normally, by the way.”

“I know.” Another silence washed over the room in between them, as Nesta began to ponder how many emotional walls Rhysand had built himself over the years. A knock on the door interrupted her thought process, and Tarquin walked in soon after, shutting the door behind him, before turning towards Rhys.

“You should be unaffected, Rhys, but it looks like you were right about Nesta.” He shifted his head towards Nesta. “I assume he’s told you about our theory. We’re going to try to use an elixir to essentially reset your powers. It won’t be pleasant, I promise you, but hopefully, your body will be able to purge whatever toxin is corrupting your powers.” He motioned towards the door as he pulled a keychain from his pocket and walked towards Rhys. “They’re waiting for you in the other room.”

“I’ll unlock Rhys and be right there.” Nesta stood up, and Tarquin turned around, opening his mouth in what seemed to be an initial objection. However, he held his tongue, looking back and forth between the two of their dejected expressions, and he pushed the keychain into her hand, gesturing towards two of the keys.

“Wrists. Ankles. Please do so as quickly as possible. And Rhys–” Rhys casually lifted his head at Tarquin as Tarquin spun back to him. “This never happened, and you were never here. I’m sure you are well aware of the potential scandal or...issues your presence could cause.” Rhys nodded, then Tarquin bowed his departure, leaving the room shortly after.

Nesta walked over to Rhys, kneeling to access the chains along his forearms. As she unlocked them, she took a deep breath, before eying up towards Rhys. 

“Tomas.”

Rhys scrunched his eyes in confusion, and she looked back at him softly as she finished his wrist locks, switching keys in her hand. “I just...know you probably have to talk about your past more than you want to...” The ankle chain on his left leg fell to the ground, and she shifted to his right ankle. “...so I wanted this conversation, at least, to be even.” The final chain hit the ground, and she stood up as he did so as well, gingerly rubbing his limbs as he kept her gaze, gauging her expression. “You shouldn’t have to be the only one who has to talk about stuff like this.” 

His eyes widened sharply as he finally realized what she meant. “Nesta...”

“Save the sympathy; I don’t need it.” She walked towards the door, hand pausing on the handle as her eyes closed. “I just wanted you to know you don’t have to suffer alone, if you don’t want to.” She gave him one last glance as she pushed downward on the handle. “We can talk later. You need to get out of here, for your own sake.” She saw the darkness of his winnow out of the corner of her eye after a brief hesitation, and she pushed the door open, squinting her eyes at the harsh lights, once again shining overhead.

Around the bed she had woken up in previously stood Tarquin and a different healer, both looking at her impatiently. She walked over to the bed, lying down and looking between the two of them.

“Well?” 

The healer sighed. “Believe me, we’ll get to it.” She pulled out a syringe, wiping down Nesta’s arm with alcohol. “Now, this is going to hurt _a lot_ , so be prepared. But it should only take an hour or so, and when it’s all said and done, your powers should hopefully all have reset themselves.” She looked at Nesta in questioning as she put her right hand on the binding bracelet on Nesta’s left wrist. “Are you ready?”

At Nesta’s nodding, the healer stuck her shoulder, removing the bracelet simultaneously.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! After a long few months of work, I am back and I should get the last few chapters out relatively soon. Enjoy!! :)

The instant the bracelet was removed from her arm, Nesta’s vision twisted into a mess of images. The walls were pixelating, with portions of each individual tile swapping between the white-blue marble of the infirmary and the charcoal shade of stone. Tarquin and the healer, who she noticed had quickly stepped away from her, were so twisted into images of multiple people that their faces were impossible to decipher.

Not that she could concentrate well enough to be able to try. Her blood felt like it had knotted into hard rope, and sharp pain was shooting throughout her whole body, although she was largely unable to move. She felt her face bead with sweat as her muscles began to tremor against the table beneath her, and she clenched her eyes to try to block out the pain.

After what seemed like an eternity, the pain began to subside somewhat from her body, and she sighed, opening her eyes. Although there were still mild, disconcerting shifts in her vision, the room had mostly been restored, and the healer gave her an encouraging smile as Tarquin silently observed from against the wall across from her.

“Am I...almost done?” Nesta managed to spurt out a sentence before leaning her neck backwards to rest against the bed again.

“Unfortunately, no. You’ve still got over a half hour to go. But the good news is that you’re past the hard part. At this point, your powers will continue to be eradicated by the serum–” Nesta’s eyes shot back to the healer. “–and your body will then have to rebuild them from scratch, which won’t hurt, but will be intense and tiring. When it gets to that point, you will probably feel an immense need to sleep. You’ll be unconscious for the majority of the remainder of the healing process.”

“What do you mean, ‘eradicated?’” Nesta’s tone was harsh, the relaxed muscles in her jaw allowing the words to come out easier.

“She didn’t mean it in a literal sense.” Tarquin spoke calmly from his position, not moving a muscle. “Think of it as your powers being stripped of energy to their purest base, before your body uses its energy core to rapidly re-fill your potential. If it makes you feel better, I’ve had to undergo it in the past as well, albeit for different reasons.”

“What for?” Nesta turned her attention to Tarquin at his final statement, but a knock on the infirmary cut off his reply.

“It’s open.” Tarquin’s booming voice filled the infirmary, and the door cracked open as Azriel slipped in.

“Your presence is needed, Tarquin. I’ll take over watching her until I can safely take her to the Night Court.”

Tarquin’s face was inquisitive, but he nodded, leaving the room and motioning for the healer to stay. Nesta studied Azriel as he walked towards the bed.

“How’s Cassian doing?” Azriel shot her a curious glance in response. “Tarquin told me,” she hastily added, shielding Rhys’s involvement while a Summer Court witness was present.

“He’s fine. It was pretty obvious you had no idea what was actually going on around you. And considering your powers were corrupted as a result of healing him, I think he’ll overlook it.” Azriel’s reply came by way of his typical monotone, strict manner of speech, and his expression remained motionless, outside the careful way his eyes shifted between her and the healer, silently studying.

“How did he originally get hurt anyw...whoa.” Exhaustion washed over her body, and she slumped back against the bed.

“Okay, that should be the second stage.” The healer spoke up, turning to Azriel. “You can take her back to the Night Court now, but she’ll need to be watched until she wakes up. If there are any issues, bring her back here and we’ll try some other methods. But considering her body rebuilt her entire power base from scratch, I find it unlikely _any_ toxin could survive. We’ll continue trying to figure out how it works, in the meantime.”

Azriel’s response to the healer muddled in Nesta’s mind as she closed her eyes, finally unable to fight her body’s wish to sleep.

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Nesta groaned and shifted in bed as light shone on her eyes. She opened them to find she was back in her Velaris bedroom, the light from the descending sun streaming in, responsible for her rude awakening. She blinked. Had she really been gone that long? She supposed she _had_ technically been forced to rest twice today. She decided that the issue wasn’t all that important anyway, when she still had unanswered questions she hadn’t been able to ask yet.

She tumbled out of bed, the sheets falling after her. She made to re-fix the bed, but her aching muscles and grumbling stomach led her to immediately abandon that plan for later. Still in her fighting clothes from that morning, she stumbled from her room, leaning against the rail as she descended down the townhome stairs to the dining room below. As she neared the base, she saw Azriel and Elain rush to meet her; Azriel a little too close at that, as she could see the analytical process in his mind working, studying her for any negative sign of health. Satisfied, he backed up, turning to Elain.

“Lucien knows where we are if something happens.” Azriel immediately winnowed, to Nesta’s frustration, and she turned to Elain instead.

“And where is that?”

Elain raised an eyebrow at her. “Do I look like a ‘Lucien?’”

“No, but if you wanted to know something, he would tell you.”

“I know.” Elain turned to walk towards the kitchen. “Which is why I didn’t ask him. Now come and get something to eat. You look famished.”

“Elain–”

“I’m not answering anything else you ask of me until you eat. You’re overworking yourself lately out of some ill-sensed guilt, and I won’t have it.” Elain interrupted Nesta’s sharp tone and turned her head slightly so Nesta could see the disapproval in her eyes, then shifted back as she disappeared into the kitchen. Nesta leaned her head back, audibly grousing as she followed her sister into the kitchen.

“Fine, I’ll eat. But I do need your help.” Nesta’s comments elicited a muted glare from her sister, who shoved a bowl of hot stew towards her and nodded at it. Nesta rolled her eyes, but started eating anyway. Immediately, she could feel her body appreciate the nourishment.

“And why should I do that? I was specifically instructed _not_ to aid you in any way in that regard, and I have to say I agree with my orders.” Elain crossed her arms in unusual irritation. “As I said, you’ve been overworking yourself anyway, at least for your current skill set.”

“Because I’m the only one who understands the danger of what we’re facing!” Nesta looked to her sister with pleading eyes in between spoonfuls. “I’m not looking to go into combat, but if they could use me for other purposes, I feel fine enough to do so. And it’s not like we have all the time in the world to be patient. Who knows what the King will do now that Alis has been rescued, especially if he thinks he’s infiltrated some kind of evil...power inside our ranks?”

Elain nodded back to her bowl, and she sighed as she began eating again. “I find it unlikely you are the only one who could testify to your condition, Nesta. And–”

“I _am_ the only one.” Nesta about dropped her bowl as she quickly stepped forward and interrupted her sister, who stepped back in surprise before narrowing her eyes. “I’m serious, Elain!”

“I know for a fact you had multiple witnesses, a detailed report drawn up by a top healer from the Summer Court, and two separate High Lords observed you before you were brought back here. Don’t tell me you’re the only one who can describe the symptoms of this...power, as you call it.”

“But I am. Most of the effects are...psychological, Elain.”

“So I’ve heard. As was documented extensively by the Summer Court healers for us.”

“That’s not what...” Nesta sighed. “Listen, the only other person who has any idea what I’m talking about is Rhys.” She observed a brief flicker in Elain’s eyes at her mention of Rhys, but she pushed her curiosity aside for now. “Believe me, Rhys should not have to be the one to talk about this. If they’re in a non-combat situation, I should be there, Elain.”

Elain studied her for a long time, reluctance and wariness coloring her features. “You promise you’ll leave this alone if they’re in a combat situation?”

“Yes, 100%.” She softened her eyes for her sister, trying to show her sincerity externally.

After another minute of Elain staring at her, she sighed. “Listen, I am making no promises, and I want you to eat and get back up to strength. But I will _talk_ to Lucien. Try to concentrate on getting yourself well until I’m back.” Nesta merely gave a soft nod back as Elain brushed past her, the front door sounding in the background a few seconds later. Nesta turned her eyes back to her bowl, her hunger returning now that her urgency was sated, and she finished her dinner.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was another 30 minutes before Elain and Lucien returned, the front door opening to Nesta’s relief, as she had spent the better amount of the time wearing a hole in the carpet, pacing. Her gut was digging into her, and she was getting nervous that it was trying to tell her something about the rest of the Court. She rushed to meet them at the entrance of the living room and widened her eyes. Both of them looked red-faced and exasperated.

“I take it...my request didn’t go well?” Nesta’s attempt at breaking the tension fell flat, as Elain immediately glared at her.

“Save it, Nesta.” She motioned for Lucien to speak, and he did as he moved to sit down in one of the living room chairs.

“You need to understand how much I’d be risking taking you anywhere, Nesta. There’s a reason I was chosen for this task, instead of joining them.”

“I know that, Lucien.” Her interruption was met by a sigh and tired frown of his, so she rolled her eyes and motioned for him to continue.

“I will tell you where they are, but please do not ask me to winnow you there, unless you feel it is _completely_ necessary.” He looked up at her, but she merely returned an expectant stare, so he continued. “There’s a scheduled emergency meeting tonight between all the Courts – well, besides the Dawn and Spring Courts for obvious reasons – to discuss the current political situation in light of the...events tonight.” He scrutinized her carefully as he spoke. “Rhys and Feyre clearly did not consider your presence necessary, so I fail to see why you feel you need to be brought there.”

“The power that corrupted my magic is...intense, Lucien. It’s something that needs to be described by someone who’s experienced it. It could win a war by itself if there was a way to easily spread it. And there’s only...” She trailed off in calculation of how she wanted to approach Lucien. “I’m the only one who’s experienced it.” She exchanged glances with Elain in a silent plea not to bring up Rhys, but Elain merely sent her a hardened stare back. She turned back to Lucien. “I _need_ to be there.”

“They’ll just send you back, Nesta. There’s no way your sister will let you into that meeting.”

“I have a plan for that.” She gazed determinedly at Lucien, holding his torn eyes in lock. He looked over at Elain, who nodded and turned towards Nesta.

“I want you to understand something, Nesta, to ensure this is as important as you are claiming it to be. If you go...” Elain exchanged glances with Lucien again, then turned back to Nesta with hardened eyes. “If you go, and Lucien is punished as a result, I will follow him out of Velaris.”

Nesta’s eyes widened in shock as she drew in her breath. “Elain, you can’t! I–”

“That is the deal, Nesta. I will not be torn from my mate over some crazy plan of yours. Take it or leave it.” Elain tightly crossed her arms, pain lacing her gaze, even as she maintained her external resolve.

Nesta swallowed in turmoil. She felt an urgent, instinctual need in her gut to be with the rest of the Night Court that she couldn’t explain, but this was the last situation she had wanted to cause. She felt like she was being asked to choose between her sisters. And the dire feeling tearing her from the inside was causing her to lean towards a situation she would have never thought thinkable. “Elain...” Elain narrowed her eyes in a silent request not to be pushed on the matter. Nesta dipped her head in pain, not able to meet Elain’s eyes as she answered, knowing what her answer had to be. “Fine. Do what you want, Elain. I need to be there to help protect my family. I’ll try to shield Lucien from the fallout as much as I can to try to keep you guys here.”

She felt a few quick tears fall down her face as a pause filled the room, before Lucien broke it. “Very well. Make whatever preparations you need to, then come down when you’re ready.” She nodded and turned around, walking up the stairs with her head still bowed, unable to look her sister in the eyes.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“The meeting is in the Winter Court, who previous mediated the clandestine meeting between the Summer and Night Courts, if you recall. They’re inviting the Day and Autumn Courts to take part in the meeting. I can’t possibly give you the entire round of names that will be at the event, but you should at least know the High Lords. My father, Beron, runs the Autumn Court, Helion oversees the Day Court, and Kallias is High Lord of the Winter Court. And of course you already know Tarquin and Rhysand.”

Lucien’s words came out quickly as he tried to give Nesta as much information as possible before sending her in. She sighed shortly to indicate her impatience to go, and he nodded in agreement. She already had to waste precious time cleaning up and changing out of her fighting clothes into something believable for a castle, and she didn’t need to be wasting more. Nesta finally dared a glance at her sister, who gave her a faint smile and hug, before whispering in her ear.

“I don’t think it will come to that. I think Feyre will be reasonable to Lucien. But please, please be careful.”

“I’ll take the whole blame for it, I promise.” Nesta squeezed her sister back. “I’ll try to protect him for you.” Elain let go and nodded, backing away. Nesta nodded back, before eying Lucien’s outstretched hand. “Before I take that, know this. If the worst happens, and you are responsible for any harm befalling Elain, the amount of vengeance I will bring down on you will make Rhys’s powers look like those of a child.”

“Good.” Lucien didn’t so much as blink, although Nesta strongly held his gaze for a few moments longer for good measure. With one last look at her sister, she put her hand in Lucien’s.

“Okay then. Let’s go.”

Instantly, the quaint decorations of the townhouse living room were replaced with quite possibly the most beautiful hallway Nesta had ever seen, surrounded by ornate light fixtures, grey, silver-veined marble floors, and large-paned windows showcasing a gorgeous, snowy exterior to the castle.

“Ahem.” Nesta snapped back to attention at Lucien’s clearing of his throat. “I just want to make sure you’re positive about this. Once I leave, you can’t turn back.”

Nesta nodded. “I’m sure.” He moved to pull his hand back, but she clenched it and moved closer, whispering to him. “If things do go south with Feyre and Rhys, please take care of my sister.” She leaned back, eyes pleading for a short moment before filtering back to their usual steely resolve. He nodded, and she let go of his hand, watching as he disappeared into thin air in front of her, before striding down the hallway, boots clicking against the tile, to begin her plan.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Urgh–”

Cramped in a small utility closet, Nesta was finding it difficult to execute the first stage of her plan. She knew there was no way she would be able to enter the meeting through typical means, as Feyre or Rhys would spot her and prevent her from doing so. Instead, she had planned to change into one of the servant’s outfits in order to ‘attend’ to the meeting and slip in before her sister could stop her.

The first half of this stage of the plan had gone smoothly. She had trailed a servant, too busy preparing for the upcoming meeting to notice her far behind her, to the servants’ quarters, before sneaking out with a uniform. However, she was having a much more difficult time changing into it in this confined space than she had thought.

She bit her lip to prevent a curse from coming out as she stubbed her toe pulling her dress over her head. She should have picked a less elaborate dress, or at least a bigger room for this. She looked around and frowned; the closet was also intensely dirty. She hadn’t thought of that either. She winced as she folded her dress and placed it as carefully as she could on the edge of a shelf, dusting the shelf lightly with her hand before placing it down.

She froze in place as she heard murmurs getting louder. She knew those voices; with her Fae ears, she could easily recognize Cassian and Rhys, muffled as they were. She rushed to put her servant garb on. She hoped the noise of changing quickly wouldn’t lead her to be discovered by Rhys this early, but she _certainly_ preferred that to being discovered half-naked.

She held her breath as she finished lacing up the thin, silver-colored waistcoat over top of the servant’s dress, not exhaling until the voices faded into the distance. She frowned again towards her Velaris dress perched on the shelf, realizing too late that she would have no way of taking it with her. She would have to leave it for now and cover it with something else in here. She turned around and scanned the shelves behind her for something relatively clean that might do the job. She winced as her hands sifted through centuries of dust and dirty cleaning equipment; there had to be a tablecloth, or something paper here…

She nearly jumped into the ceiling when the door handle behind her jiggled, and she scattered against the side wall, thinking all kinds of obscenities at the realization that there was no space to hide in here, either. She grimaced as the door flung open and a man entered quickly, closing the door quickly behind him, but her wince morphed quickly into a scowl at the realization that said male was Cassian.

“What are you doing here?” she whispered harshly.

“I could ask you the same question.” He met her with the same tone, eyes showing clear annoyance as he scanned her new clothes. “You realize that doing something like this could backfire on Rhys and your sister, right?”

“I’ll take responsibility for it. Now, please leave my closet.” Nesta motioned with her hands rapidly towards the door.

“Oh? I guess you don’t want my help then. In that case...”

“Wait!” She narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “Why? You didn’t even want me here in the first place.”

“Well, that’s not...” Cassian shifted uncomfortably in front of her, then crossed his arms. “We don’t need to be talking about that. How are you planning on getting rid of that?” He nodded at her dress, still sitting on the shelf. “If they find that, they’ll immediately investigate every servant in the entire castle for a Night Court infiltrator and suspect Rhys and Feyre of some kind of plot. So excuse me if I feel the need to butt in as their commander.”

“Well, I was gonna hide it, but...” She smiled wickedly at Cassian as she took off her boots, handing them to him along with the dress. “Be a dear and winnow these home, please.”

Cassian narrowed his eyes at her tone, but he grabbed the items nonetheless, disappearing into air as she slipped her feet into the servant’s flats. In an instant, he was back in front of her, scowling.

“You know, I really should be taking _you_ back, not your clothes.”

“I know.” Nesta whispered back. “But thank you for trusting me enough not to.” She moved to move past him, but he grabbed her arm, his eyes suddenly closing. She withdrew back against the wall. “What?”

“I smell a Fae nearby...they would hear if you attempted to leave the closet at the moment. You’ll need to wait them out.”

She raised her eyebrow. “You _smell_ them?”

He matched her eyebrow with his own. “That surprises you? How do you think I found you? However...” He smirked at her, and she thinned her gaze in response. “...I could follow _your_ scent for miles. I knew where you were the moment you entered the castle.”

Nesta rolled her eyes. “Am I supposed to be impressed?”

Cassian grinned as he leaned closer, putting a hand next to her head against the wall. Nesta suddenly became aware of their proximity in the small closet. “I feel like I could have built this castle with my bare hands, and you wouldn’t be impressed, sweetheart.”

“Last I heard, you mostly _destroyed_ buildings, not built them.” She leaned towards him for emphasis as she spoke, taunting him with her eyes as she tinged her hushed answer with a hint of acidity. His smile widened in response, a feral gleam in his eye matching hers.

“Rumors and vicious lies, I assure you. _Although_...” His eyes drifted downward, and her face heated as she realized the degree her cleavage was exposed from the low cut of the servant dress and the angle at which he stood over her. “...since we’re stuck in this closet, alone together, perhaps we should try to bring this one down.” His eyes returned to hers, and the heat in her cheeks roared further, as a heat further downward in her began to pool .

“You know...” Nesta swallowed and tried to distract herself from the mere inch that now separated their lips, trying to remember her actual reason for coming to the Winter Court. “...I’m beginning to think there’s not really a Fae outside.”

He opened his mouth to reply, but the door to the closet opened suddenly, revealing a tall, glowering man, dressed to the hilt in silver and a long, white robe, with a crown of ice adorning his head. Nesta sucked in her breath at the realization of who stood before her.

“H—H—High Lord.”


	15. Chapter 15

“H—H—High Lord.” Despite her act, Nesta’s stammer was genuine, as she found herself face-to-face with the realization that her plan had progressed too far to be able to turn back now. The man she assumed to be Kallias studied her disapprovingly, before speaking sternly.

“What is your name, young lady?” His eyes seemed to pierce right through her, and despite his powers remaining dormant, she felt a chill rise up her spine.

“Ka–” Nesta stuttered, halfway to saying ‘Katherine’ before realizing the imbecility of picking a human name. She composed herself, pretending to be even more flustered by his arrival than she already was. “Katerina, High Lord.” She dipped her eyes and did a quick curtsy in submission in an attempt to sell her role.

“Well, Katerina, I would _highly_ suggest you get back to work for now, considering we’re understaffed on servers at the moment. This will be discussed later.” She nodded quickly, not making eye contact, and she moved to brush past him, though he grabbed her as she got close. Her heart skipped several beats. “For Cauldron’s sake, Cas...young lady, please fix your waistcoat before you spread scandal to the entire castle staff.”

Nesta looked up sharply in surprise at Kallias and blinked, before checking her waistcoat. Her face burned; the lacing had been largely undone. No wonder her cleavage had been so exposed. She turned her back to Kallias and shot a dirty side look at Cassian as she fumbled quickly to untie and redo it out of eyesight of both of the males. He didn’t even bother to return eye contact, simply smirking and drumming his fingers loudly along the closet shelving. She fumed internally as she refocused and neared the top of the lacing. How dare he not even face this own situation that he started. And that awful drumming was bothering her, especially because he kept doing the same, obnoxious pattern. 

Her eyes flickered and her fingers paused for a brief instant, and she was glad her back was to Kallias so he could not witness the fleeting moment of comprehension flash across her face. She would still make Cassian pay for this situation in folds later, but...at least he was being helpful. Finishing the last laces, she turned around and curtsied again to Kallias, who stepped aside to allow her to pass, and she set off on her path through the castle.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In stiff suspense, Cassian watched Kallias’s eyes follow Nesta the entire way to the first palace intersection, only exhaling when he saw her make the left she needed to make to move in the direction of the kitchens. Thankfully, she had interpreted his directions as such – or at least gotten a lucky guess. Either way, she was safe, and that’s all that mattered to him for now. Though he knew she was going to lay into him later. His thoughts shifted back to the situation at hand as Kallias finally turned back to him, eyes much darker than they had been moments ago. 

“When I said my staff would be available to attend to the various Courts, this is not what I meant, Cassian.”

“You weren’t specific.” Cassian leaned against the shelving, crossing his arms and widening his smirk.

“Listen, Cassian.” Kallias’s words came out almost at a growl, unusual for the normally-stoic man, as he stepped closer to drive his point home. “I’ve considered you a friend for a very long time, and I’m sure even you will admit I’ve been a much more patient person with you than certain...other Courts.” He paused to try to elicit a reaction from Cassian, but he merely raised an eyebrow in amusement, causing Kallias’s eyes to narrow further as his voice dipped lower. “I will not have you causing drama in my Court, or worse, leaving one of our young women with child, especially at such a dangerous time.”

Cassian coolly held Kallias’s gaze for a few seconds before replying, never dropping his grin. “I’ve been alive for a half-millenia, Kallias, with no such carelessness. What makes you think I’ll start now?”

“To be honest, I consider that good fortune more than anything else. Do not dismiss my concerns so quickly. Perhaps I should remind you of the many women you’ve left heartbroken over the years? Or the fact that you’re banned from _an entire Court_ because of a female?”

Kallias’s remarks finally dug into Cassian, causing him to drop his smirk and narrow his eyes. “You can’t boil my issues with the Summer Court down to a woman.”

“On the contrary, Cassian, _every_ issue with you, spanning across centuries, has had a woman at its root.” The two men were steaming, a mere foot separating them. “And you _will not_ bring your issues to my Court; do you understand me?”

Cassian stared his old friend down, irritated at his predicament. Admittedly, he _had_ done...regrettable things far in his past, but he didn’t particularly want to encourage that reputation now, especially not with someone he considered a personal ally and friend. He supposed he had no choice, though, as long as Nesta was undercover. He would be able to right this situation with Kallias afterward. He sighed, dropping his anger and acting bored as he pushed past the High Lord.

“I’m getting a drink.”

“Cassian–” Kallias’s annoyed reply was cut off as Cassian decided to quicken his travel to the ballroom with a winnow, disappearing into thin air.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I have a bad feeling about this.” 

Rhys didn’t so much as flinch as Az spoke from beside him in the Winter Court meeting room, voice so quiet he wasn’t sure Feyre even heard him from his other flank, let alone the Winter Court servants on the far side of the room. The three of them were early, and therefore Feyre and he were the only nobility present, but servants talked. He sent back a mental message.

_Why do you say that?_

“I can’t put my finger on it, yet, but something feels wrong. I’m going to pry around a little more.”

_The meeting starts in ten minutes._

“I’ll be back.” 

Rhys subtly nodded as he leaned back in his chair and yawned, feigning boredom. Feyre eyed him from his other side, but she played along as he mentally filled her in on the conversation. He heard Azriel stand up loudly next to him and casually looked over.

“I think I’m going to get some food before the meeting starts. Do you two want anything?” Feyre politely shook her head, and Rhys waved off Azriel, who nodded and winnowed to the ballroom.

_Does the Day Court know I’m High Lady?_

The silent message from Feyre entered Rhys’s head, and he moved his hand to cover hers. _Yes. Azriel filled them in earlier today, before taking Nesta back to Velaris._ He felt a pang as her face visibly twitched at his mention of her sister.

_She’s going to be furious I didn’t let her come._

_You were right to be afraid other Courts would find out about her powers. You made a decision, and I agree with it. Don’t beat yourself up about it._

She turned her head to him and gave a soft smile, gripping his hand in her own, maintaining the impression they were just waiting for the rest of the Courts to arrive. 

_Still…_

Her message was cut off as Rhys subtly gestured towards the doorway with the hand she was wielding. Both of their eyes followed as the double doors opened to reveal Kallias walk in. He met their gaze and stepped back slightly in surprise, but he ultimately just shook his head in irritation and went to join his servants in checking on preparations for the meeting.

_What do you think that was about?_

In response to Feyre’s silent question, Rhys leaned over intimately into her ear. “I don’t know, but I suspect we’ll find out soon, whether we want to or not.” Feyre put a simper on her face to cover his actual words, but he could sense her anxiety. An anxiety that matched his own.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“You there!”

Nesta froze in place, having just entered the kitchen doors. She couldn’t be caught this quickly…

“Hey!”

She turned her head to find a slightly taller, rather menacing woman in a white apron stalking towards her from across the kitchen., although her movement was delayed while she was navigating the various food and drink items being made for the visiting guests. Nesta tried rapidly to think of a way to reply, but to her relief, the woman quickly jumped back in.

“Yes, you. What do you think you’re doing? We’re 20 minutes behind schedule and you’re walking in here like you’ve got nowhere to be. Grab a dish and get to the ballroom like the rest of the servers, STAT!”

The woman was rapidly nearing Nesta, and she looked around for a plate of food she could reasonably carry while she was backing up away from the woman. Her thought process was interrupted as pain shot into her back from an island she hadn’t seen behind her.

“You idiot!” The woman caught up the rest of the way in a few long steps and reached behind Nesta. She turned around to see five trays of champagne glasses, one in particular whose glasses were saved in the nick of time from being spilled by Nesta. She moved to grab one of the trays.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’ll take one of these.” Nesta clenched her fingers around the edge of the tray.

“No!” Nesta immediately released the tray, though not because of the woman’s exclamation. Nesta stared wide-eyed at the glasses on the tray, each of which had shifted in color from their dull gold to a dark, matte black and back again in response to her hand. She looked at the woman to gauge her reaction, but the woman waved her off, seemingly not having noticed. “These are for the meeting later! Ballroom food first, _then_ we serve the alcohol. Did you not listen at prep?”

“I...I wasn’t at prep.” The woman widened her eyes, then narrowed them quickly in suspicion. Nesta realized she needed to say something quickly. “High Lord Kallias can explain; he was just with me. I came right from a...meeting with him.”

“ _You_...had a meeting with _Kallias_?” Nesta meekly nodded, and the woman eyed her, suspicion not leaving her face. “Fine, I suppose that’s easily verifiable. For now, please grab a plate and stop wasting my time.”

Nesta squeezed past her against the island, making sure to slide the tips of her fingers against each tray in succession. _Black_. _Black_. _Black_. _Gold_. She sucked in a breath, before moving to the last tray. _Black_. It was then she noticed the colored labels in front of the trays. She looked over her shoulder, but the woman was almost outside the kitchen. “Wait!” The woman turned her head, but continued to walk. “Why are these labeled?” The woman scrunched her face in irritation.

“The Autumn Court requested a non-alcoholic beverage, so we replaced it with cider. It’s a common request; don’t mix up the trays.” She moved to leave, but called back as she opened the door. “Next time, don’t miss prep if you want your questions answered.”

Nesta swallowed hard. Uncovering something like this...seemingly could only mean one thing. But if the woman didn’t notice the color change, how could anyone else? She would look like a lunatic, and then it would trickle back to her sister. And even _if_ Feyre believed her or Rhys could see it as well, there would be no way for them to look like anything but conspirators in her plan. She needed to think of something fas–

A hard and dull pain suddenly filled her leg. A server moved past her towards the doors, showing her a scowl. “Chef told you to move. Now MOVE before you don’t have a job anymore.” She realized the server had kicked her, and she caught herself before a natural retort slipped out from her mouth. She reminded herself mentally that she was undercover and that losing her cool could endanger everything. She quickly spotted a tray of food she felt she could manage by herself, and she tried to catch up to the server, who had already long since left the kitchen, to find her way to the ballroom.

Luckily for her, the server in front of her had dropped a small hors d’oeuvre at the first hallway intersection, giving Nesta a good idea of where to begin her path. Even more fortunate, once she caught up to the other server, she received a fierce glare from the other woman, who sped up considerably, allowing her to avoid conversation while providing her a nice compass to follow. When they finally reached what Nesta assumed to be the ballroom doors, the server in front of her stopped suddenly and spun around. Nesta’s breath stopped again in anticipation of potentially being found out.

“For Cauldron’s sake, do you want to end up on the streets? Hold the food properly, above your shoulder, like I’m doing it. You’re already on thin ice.”

“S-sorry. This is my first day.” Nesta tried adjusting her grip to somewhat match the other woman’s, though she lacked Elain’s grace and it came out looking somewhat awkward, eliciting a grimace from the other server, who came over to try to help her. In fact, she often wondered if she had tried so hard to improve her social status when she was younger just to make up for her social disadvantages relative to her sisters.

...though she did not need to be thinking about that right now with the current stakes. She re-concentrated and tried to force her arm to mimic the other server as much as possible, who ended up sighing after a few seconds.

“That’ll have to do.” Nesta groaned internally; the position was killing her arm. “Now follow me, and set it down on the table exactly as I do. Do not let the guests sample before you set it down, and _please, for the love of everything in Prythian_ , put a damn smile on your face for once.” Nesta twitched as the woman turned back around and opened the doors, but she complied as best she could, hoping it didn’t look as forced as it felt.

The Winter Court ballroom was huge, certainly bigger than any room Nesta had seen in her life, as it was bigger than some _houses_ she had visited in the human realm. She couldn’t afford to lose her concentration, though, and she maintained her focus on her fellow server in front of her as she weaved through inattentive guests for a good distance of the room, before setting her tray down next to the other woman’s dish, mimicking her as best as possible. She realized as she set the tray down that the other woman would want her to return immediately as well, and she acted quickly.

“Ack.” Her face lit up in real embarrassment as she tipped one of the hors d’oeuvres over, spilling some of the cocktail sauce on her uniform. The other server groaned as some of the nearby guests chuckled condescendingly at her. The redness on her face grew.

“Do you know your way back?” Nesta nodded. “Good. Water pitchers and napkins are over there–” A quick tilt of the head was enough for Nesta to follow her eyes. “–and do not delay at all. As I said, you are already on thin ice.” As quickly as she finished her sentence, the server was already on her heels, heading towards the doors.

As Nesta moved swiftly through the room towards the water pitchers, she scanned the room for anyone she might recognize or, in a worst-case scenario, trust to warn. The first person she saw was Cassian, who was talking to a Winter Court male, though she suspected he was intentionally keeping himself in her eyesight in case she needed him. She knew she couldn’t risk interacting with him, though, not after the incident with Kallias earlier. She’d have to find another plan.

She took a position on the far side of the water pitcher table, giving herself the best view of the room as she scrubbed out the stain from her dress. She frowned; most of the guests she could guess the nationality of, but she didn’t recognize any of them…

...until her eyes landed on the back of Cresseida’s head, who thankfully hadn’t noticed her yet, or at the very least had pretended not to. Cresseida wasn’t her first choice by any means, but she might not even _have_ a choice. She studied the woman talking to the Summer Court Princess. She gauged the colors and style of her outfit...and an idea hit her immediately.

She quickly dried off her uniform and slid across the room urgently, playing the role of the rushed servant. In truth, she felt like she could almost have cartwheeled across the floor with the disrespect most of the nobility was showing for her, largely trying to avoid having to look at her. She wondered if this was how the servants felt most of the time.

“Excuse me.” She abruptly interrupted an elaborate story Cresseida was weaving, drawing daggers from both women, though she could have sworn Cresseida’s eyes did a triple take as they widened. “I’m sorry to interrupt, Princess Cresseida, but I need to inform you that we couldn’t fulfill the Summer Court’s request for a non-alcoholic beverage for the meeting. We’re too behind schedule.”

She reddened her face at the narrowing of Cresseida’s eyes and her speech hastened and increased in pitch in mock intimidation. “My deepest apologies! High Lord Kallias said we can get you water for the meeting instead, but you would’ve needed to put in a request at least an hour ago if you wanted cider, like the Autumn Court did.”

“Wait what?” Nesta used every muscle in her face to prevent herself from smiling as her bait worked perfectly on the other woman, whose outfit was filled with Autumn colors and was far too elaborate to be a low-level rank, especially considering she was speaking to Cresseida. “What do you mean, we’re getting cider?”

Nesta skittishly flickered her eyes between the two women. “Pardon me, Your Ladyship, are you from the Autumn Court?”

“Yes, of course I’m from the Autumn Court, you imbecile. Are you color blind? Why aren’t we getting alcohol?”

Nesta dipped her eyes in faux humiliation. “We–we had a request straight from the Autumn Court Cabinet; I don’t know why.”

The woman laughed darkly, and Nesta needed no acting lessons for her body to immediately tense. “There are two people in the entire Cabinet here today, and I am one of them. Are you suggesting my cousin put in the request?”

Nesta paused for a moment, thinking about the most likely candidates she could be talking about. Her eyes flashed, thankfully still dipped and out of eyesight of the woman, at the memory of Mor’s brief mention of Lucien’s family to Elain. That now felt like forever ago. She could likely narrow this woman’s cousin down to Beron or Eris, but she couldn’t guess a name in case she got it wrong. Better stick to what she did know and not try to get too specific. “All I know is that a member of the Autumn Court Cabinet put in the request. I’m not exactly high up in the staff, Your...Excellency?”

The woman snorted. “Not quite. But soon, maybe.” She visibly winked at Cresseida, and Nesta realized the woman was blatantly _ignoring_ her. What an idiot. “You know what? I say screw Eris.” She turned her eyes back to Nesta. “The Summer Court can have our drinks. I’m not going this whole meeting without alcohol in my system. And he could learn to not be an uptight prick all the time. Now get the hell away from us.”

“Th-thank y–” Her gratitude was cut short as the woman waved her off harshly, and she scampered away, though her Fae hearing caught the beginning of their next conversation.

“You aren’t–”

“No, no.” Nesta could hear the delay in Cresseida’s voice, and she sucked in her breath, hoping Cresseida wouldn’t blow her cover. “But it’s better to be safe when you’re late, you know?” Nesta breathed a sigh of relief.

The rest of the response got absorbed by the crowd noise as she slipped out of the ballroom and made her way back to the kitchen.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Kallias! How are you doing?” Rhys and Feyre braced themselves against the meeting table as they stood up to address the Winter High Lord, who had finally deemed it important enough to cross the room. She wondered whether he had intentionally been letting them stew.

“Rhysand.” His eyes shifted to her. “High Lady Feyre.”

“Please, ‘Feyre’ is more than fine.”

“Of course.” Kallias’s eyes shifted between the two of them, and she could tell he was searching, but...what for? “My apologies for the rudeness; it seems we have run behind schedule, and I’ve had some...issues. I did not want to exchange greetings until after I let myself steam out my annoyance at your Commander.”

Feyre’s breath slipped, and she could feel Rhys’s do the same, though both prevented it from showing externally. Rhys took the lure as she continued to study Kallias’s face. “You ran into issues with my Commander, Kallias?”

Kallias waved him off. “Nothing to concern you. Just...you know. The usual with him.” He gave a quick glance at Feyre, and she realized he wanted to have this conversation alone with Rhys. Rhys raised his eyebrow significantly.

 _I can make myself scarce if you feel it would help you get information from him easier._ Rhys didn’t react to her message, but he sent one back quickly.

_No. It would diminish your standing in the eye of the Winter Court. I want you to be seen as my equal._

“The usual, Kallias?” She asked the question innocently, as if she truly believed he didn’t already realize only one of them would understand the reference.

“It’s...not that important. Rhys would probably want to handle this on his own.”

“What’s important to me is important to her.” Rhys cut in at the end of Kallias’s sentence with more than a hint of scorn, a subtle threat at how further exclusionary discourse would be responded to by the Night Court. Kallias shifted uncomfortably in response.

“Very well, Rhys. But considering time constraints, I ask that you be the one to discuss your Commander with your High Lady, if you so wish.” He turned to her. “I mean this with absolutely no disrespect towards your position, of course.”

She eyed him and decided to stall to buy time to extract more specifics. “You have to depart immediately after exchanging pleasantries?” He swallowed, and she read a brief moment of panic on his face before he slipped back into his cold features. She wondered what he thought she had picked up on; it was too risky to make an attempt to read it for herself, especially with this war brewing and all the Courts on edge.

“You must understand that I truly wish to create this coalition to fight against Hybern and his Courts. Neglecting pleasantries could negatively affect that in ways far surpassing any time delay, but I still must attend to it nonetheless. I apologize if bringing up your Commander was a rude–”

“No, not at all, Kallias.” Rhysand jumped in, and he exchanged a very brief eye contact in agreement with her. “Please, attend to your castle. _We_ –” Feyre noted the emphasis used by Rhys with a smug smile. “–will handle the situation with Cassian. Our apologies for the hassle.”

Kallias nodded to both of them, as they nodded back in response, then turned and left the room in a hurry. Feyre turned to eye Rhys.

_What was that about?_

Rhys eyed her back.

_I think you’re about to take back the regret you expressed earlier._

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Nesta said a silent prayer as she pushed open the kitchen doors, hoping against reason it wouldn’t be as crowded in panic. To her surprise, she found that her prayer had been answered as she entered the room, as only one or two scattered servers were cleaning up. One of them caught her eye.

“High Lord Kallias came by and said we were too behind schedule, that we should finish preparations for the meeting instead. The trays just went out right before you arrived.”

Nesta’s eyes immediately shot to the wine glasses, and she froze in place. Only three trays remained. She hurried to the table immediately, looking at the remaining labels. _Day_. _Autumn_. _Summer_. The relief flowing through her was immense, as she picked up the last two trays on the table and moved to exit the room.

“Hey!” She swallowed, turning back to the server. “Make sure you don’t mix up those trays. The one with two glasses is Autumn, and the one with three is Summer.” She nodded, and he turned away, so she took her leave, knowing she could never mistake the two golden glasses in her left hand for the black ones in her right.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Kallias!”

The Winter High Lord turned around to see his Head Chef running to catch up to him. He motioned for her to walk with him towards the meeting room.

“Sorry, I just wanted to ask you something quickly if I could. One of our new staff members missed our prep meeting, but she claimed that she did so because she was in a meeting with you.”

He looked at her confused, then he pieced together the day so far and groaned. “You could say that, yes.” She nodded and turned to leave, but he froze in place as he rethought her words. “Wait. What do you mean by ‘new’ staff member?”

“We got two new members today. I got a memo from you this afternoon saying that I might see some stand-ins today to help with the preparations due to short notice. We got a new sous chef soon after, and then the server just showed up about ten minutes ago, the one you were talking to earlier.”

“Oh...yes of course. My apologies, my mind has been all over the place today. Thank you for checking with me. If you see either of them, can you take them to me or one of my children, though? I want to have a more thorough welcoming for them once the chaos of this meeting has died down a bit.”

“Of course, High Lord.” The woman curtseyed and departed. Kallias nodded after her, then set off rapidly towards the meeting, hoping he wasn’t too late. He still felt lost at what was going on inside his own castle, but he did know one thing.

He had sent no such memo.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Compared to finding the ballroom, the meeting room was easy for Nesta. She’d merely had to follow the trail of nobility making their way to the room and the trail of the servants departing, catching up to another one just as she scurried past the prior. She took a deep breath and pushed her way through the doors with her back, holding both trays at chest level to try to ensure the liquid did not spill anywhere. She didn’t know if the poison could work through exposure, but she wasn’t about to be the one to find out.

She scanned the room for the seats she needed to take the drinks to. Fortunately, tablecloths had been put out with each of the Courts’ colors, and she set the two trays down on the gap between the burnt orange and blue tablecloth of the Summer Court and the golden brown and red of the Autumn Court.

Soon after she had left the kitchen, she had swapped one of the glasses from the Summer Court tray to the Autumn Court tray, and she moved the Summer Court tray, now the “two glass” tray, towards the Autumn cloth. As she set out the two glasses in front of the Autumn woman and a man she assumed was Prince Eris, she tried to decide how to put out the three Summer Court glasses. One person would have to be given the black glass, and she didn’t know their seats, as they hadn’t arrived yet, even if she _could_ choose a person to give it to.

She knew she had to give Cresseida the unpoisoned champagne, as she would likely assume her drink had been swapped, but she wasn’t sure how to put out the other two. She placed one of the unpoisoned glasses on the left edge of the Summer cloth, hoping Cresseida would be sitting next to the woman from the Autumn Court. Knowing she needed to keep her movement fluid, she closed her eyes in regret as she placed the second unpoisoned glass in the center and the black glass on the right table end, feeling like she was gambling with the lives of the Summer nobility.

She quickly placed the trays under her arm and glanced in the Night Court direction across the room, hoping she could tip off Rhys before she left, but he was turned in his seat talking to Cassian, both of their eyes nowhere near her. She gulped, wondering if she could find an excuse to stall a little bit until she could let him know.

_Walk out of the room, Nesta._

She startled slightly, but straightened and looked around a little bit as she started walking slowly.

_This is Rhys. If you need proof, we talked in the back of the Summer Court healer’s room. Walk out of the room. Staying here will only be bad for you. What is going on?_

She started moving faster towards the exit, satisfied by his comments. She wasn’t sure how to respond, but she tried to “think” in his direction.

_Poison in wine. Autumn Court’s were fine. Swapped with Summer Court._

_You don’t have to try hard, just think and I’ll be able to read it for now. Which glass is poisoned of the Summer Court?_

_Day Court side._

_Okay. Get out of here and find somewhere to lay low. We’ll find you._

She had almost reached the door when it opened abruptly, revealing a ruffled Kallias, who glowered at recognition of her. She halted and curtseyed.

“H-High Lord.” She stuttered as she moved past him into the hallway beyond. She breathed as she turned into a side hallway, her brain straining to think of a place she could hide in the meantime. If Cassian wasn’t bragging, she knew he’d be able to find her wherever she went.

She almost tripped in place as a man winnowed immediately in front of her, though he grabbed her arm to stabilize her. To her panic, she looked up to see the Winter High Lord, eyes slit in anger.

“Ah, _Katerina_. So glad we were able to run into each other again. May I have a moment?”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Nesta entered the conference room, Cassian felt the entire Night Court’s eyes turn to him, some more subtly than others. With Azriel still absent, there was no buffer between Rhys’s and his seats. He looked over as if he was going to make casual conversation and met Rhys’s side glance. Rhys slightly kicked the chair in between them, and Cassian snorted, switching seats.

“Enjoyed yourself so far, Cassian?” The overly casual question came as Rhys’s eyes scanned the participants of the conference meeting, who were slowly arriving and taking their seats.

“The lack of alcohol in the ballroom was irritating. I’ll enjoy being back in the Night Court for sure.” He made brief eye contact to get Rhys to read his mental messages. _What did you want me to do, Rhys?_

“I think you’ll find a way to survive, Cassian. Besides, they’re serving wine now.” _For one, I would’ve appreciated knowing she was here. I assumed so from Kallias’s irritation, but I should still have been made aware by you._

“I just want to get started already. All this set up is ridiculous for a meeting.” _I didn’t really have time to, once I found out. I don’t even really know what she’s doing, and I’ve been trying to keep my eye on her as much as I can without evoking suspicion until now._

“I think Kallias is trying to avoid offending any Courts.” _I’ll try to talk to her about it._

 _She’s trying to get our attention anyway._ Cassian exhaled in faux impatience, their conversation over, and studied the room. The Summer and Winter Courts were the only delegations who hadn’t arrived yet, with the only other missing person being Azriel. At six members, they easily had the second-largest delegation after the Winter Court, with the Day Court and Summer Courts each choosing three attendees and the Autumn Court only sending two. Beron hadn’t even bothered to show up, although the Autumn and Winter Courts had never really been fond of each other to begin with.

He felt more than saw Nesta’s tension, and shifted his peripheral to see Kallias and her briefly exchanging words, before she passed by him. Kallias stood in the doorway, unmoving. Cassian hesitated, adjusting what his eyes were focused on but maintaining Kallias at the edge of his vision.

The shattering of glass shifted his attention rapidly to his side, where he saw Mor, at the other end of the table, holding a mere stem of her wine glass, the rest of the glass and contents strewn across the table. She backed away and addressed the servants who came over to clean up the table after her. “I’m so sorry, the glass slipped in my hand and I squeezed it too hard trying to catch it.”

Eris audibly sneered at her, from across the room, and toasted his glass in the air at her. Cassian frowned; he had hated Eris from the day he met him. Remembering his task at hand, he sought out Kallias again, and he could feel a paleness blanket his face at the realization Kallias was gone.

He was about to excuse himself, when he heard Eris start choking and screaming.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Can I help you, High Lord?” Nesta was pretty sure her cover was blown, but there was no reason to take unnecessary risks, as she responded to Kallias in a timid voice.

“Please. I know you’re not from my Court. What I want to know is what you’re doing here.”

Nesta scowled. All she could do now was try to prevent any collateral damage to Rhys or her sister. And considering the Winter Court’s tray was entirely black too…

“Believe me, I have no qualms throwing you in the dungeons here until this matter gets figured out, if you would prefer that.”

She rolled her eyes, letting him know what she thought of his title. “Someone was attempting to poison most of the participants of your meeting.”

“ _Someone?_ ” His response was tinged with heavy skepticism.

She hesitated, then decided that she couldn’t get herself in much worse of a position. “I think it’s Eris. But I can’t prove it. The Autumn Court’s cider were the only unpoisoned drinks. And the other Autumn Court Cabinet member agreed to trade her drink with a member of a separate Court.”

He raised an eyebrow in further disbelief. “How much have you been doing in the last half hour? And how did you even know the drinks were poisoned?”

“They...” She caught herself, remembering that no one else could see the toxins inside the drink. “Listen, you can ask me questions all you want, but it doesn’t change the fact they’re poisoned. I informed two of the other Courts prior, and now I have informed three. The only Court I haven’t been able to warn yet is the Day Court.”

“How...generous. I’m sure you’ll understand if you’re stuck in interrogation for awhile, nonetheless. Even if your intentions were noble, impersonating a Court member and forging official documents are both grave, international offenses.”

“Forging a...” Her confusion was cut off as he pushed past her abruptly, running down the hall. She turned around and followed his gaze to the server carrying the last two trays of wine, for the Winter and Day Courts. She ran after him, catching up to him as he was stopping the poor man.

“You can’t bring those.” The servant caught his breath, looking between the two of them. Kallias glared at her for following him, then revisited the servant. “I’ll take them. Aid in the clean-up effort, please.” The servant handed over the trays, bowed, and walked off. He turned to Nesta and was about to begin berating her again, when Eric’s scream pierced through the door. 

Kallias shoved the trays into Nesta’s hands and ran into the conference center. Stabilizing the drinks to avoid them spilling, she followed him in.

“We ordered cider, not wine; are you people inept?” Nesta caught a glance at Eris screaming at Winter Court servants as she swung open the door again. The Autumn Court woman from before turned to Eris.

“Will you calm down? I let the Summer Court have our drinks–”

“You did what?!” Eris flipped his anger towards her and fumbled with his jacket. “You idiot; you let them poison us.” He surfaced a small vial of a light blue liquid, downing it swiftly.

“What? Who is ‘them,’ Eris?”

Nesta placed the trays on a nearby empty table quietly, and Eris made eye contact with her, pointing at her.

“ _You_. _You_ were the one talking to my cousin and Cresseida.” He turned to Kallias. “She tried to poison me; arrest her.”

“Actually–” Nesta spun around to see Cresseida enter the room, Varian and Tarquin alongside her. “– _Princess Nesta_ was trying to warn me of the poison so that I might save the members of my brother and father. I would think she should be commended, not arrested, as I have no doubt she informed her brother-in-law as well.” She turned her eyes towards the Night Court table as Kallias visibly tensed at Nesta’s title. “Isn’t that right, Rhysand?”

Although the whole room’s eyes were upon him, Rhys did not respond to Cresseida. Instead, eyes locked on Eris, he spoke quietly. “Interesting, Eris, that you knew your drink was poisoned simply because it was wine.”

“Are you implying I had something to do with this?” Eris gritted his teeth in response. “I ordered cider for my Court, because I’d gotten reports of a poison being circulated at this meeting. I even told my father to stay home. I did it to protect my Court. Why would I draw attention to myself if I was the one poisoning the drinks? I’m sure _you’d_ enjoy seeing the Autumn Court blamed, Rhys.”

“I find it curious, Eris.” Nesta spoke quickly to avoid Eris’s implications from blossoming further, though her cheeks reddened at the attention thrown her way as a result. She glared harshly at him. “If you had nothing to do with it, why did you have an exact antidote on hand?”

Eris backed up a step, attention back on him, and looked back at the Winter High Lord. “This is outrageous, Kallias. The Night Court is infiltrating your castle and had advance knowledge of this poison, and yet _my_ Court is the one accused of attempted murder?”

Kallias opened his mouth to respond, but his reply was cut off as the door banged open, and Nesta swiveled to see Azriel enter, holding the servant Kallias had just dismissed against his body with a knife to the man’s throat. Kallias’s nostrils flared.

“What is the meaning of this, Azriel?”

“I think he can speak for me, Kallias.” Azriel’s eyes were stone-cold, and his grip was steady on the knife, promising a quick end to the man’s life if he attempted to fight. Instead, the man simply put a wicked grin on his face.

“That bitch aside–” The man shifted his head slightly towards her, and Cassian bristled so much in her peripheral that Nesta swore she could feel his rage boil herself. “–you guys were sitting ducks.” He made eye contact with Eris, and only then did Nesta see the pale white color of Eris’s face. “Oh, relax. We still won, Eris. They may not have drank our wine, but they certainly enjoyed our food.” His eyes shifted to Kallias, and he laughed an unnerving snicker. “Hope your guests enjoyed the hors d’oeuvres I prepared for them.”

Nesta scrunched her face in confusion as the Court members in the room began to chatter and panic. “Wait!” The noise died down somewhat at her voice, though murmurs were still rippling. “The food wasn’t poisoned.”

“Oh, but you only think that!” The man cackled, seemingly becoming more unhinged as time went on. “I was the only cook assigned to the hors d’oeuvres, and I made several batches that were sent out before I... _reassigned_ myself to the storage team to retrieve the wine.”

“She’s right.” One of the few servants still in the room, who’d been helping tidy the room before the meeting, spoke up, before clamming up at the realization of the nobility around her. Kallias looked at her, nodding in encouragement. Locking eyes with him, she continued. “He did make us a bunch of batches of food, but we took so long setting up the ballroom that Chef forced us to make fresh appetizers for the event. We got chewed out by her over it, especially because our kitchen was a mess with how much food that got thrown out. So his...are either just sitting in the kitchen now or already tossed.” She shifted her eyes between Kallias and Nesta. “Nobody ate them.”

The man’s grin instantly crumbled, and his eyes darkened immensely. “You had one job, Eris, and you couldn’t do it. Believe me, you will pay for this.” Suddenly, he shifted rapidly into darkness in Azriel’s arms, pooling straight to the ground, and Azriel almost cut his own arm with his instinctive movement. Azriel took several steps backward as the darkness reformed into a matte-black creature with dark silver wings, eyes hollowed out. It turned its head to Nesta. “You too, girl.” In a blinding flash, it disappeared, char covering the marble where it had just stood.

Nesta didn’t have much time to ponder the creature’s words before she heard a loud crash behind her. Turning around, she saw Cassian slam Eris into the table she’d been leaning against.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

While everyone else’s eyes were on the creature, Cassian’s had been on Eris. He had seen Eris’s slow inching throughout the creature’s and servant’s speech and had been anticipating his movement, and the second he saw light shine from steel he had winnowed, catching Eris’s arm before he could plunge the knife into Nesta’s back.

The two men tumbled into the table behind her, and Cassian was about to use the momentum to end Eris’s life when he heard Nesta scream at him. Turning his head slightly, he saw the trays of wine sliding down the broken table, and he was forced to jump back, allowing Eris to winnow before the glasses all shattered right where they had been fighting.

He cursed at his misfortune, but he turned his attention to Nesta. Her eyes were staring at the wine-stained spot on the marble, though they quickly shifted to his. He could feel her exhaustion, and he knew she could feel his as well. He felt a shift in their bond as their eyes locked, and the rest of the room drowned away as he closed the step between them, wrapping her in his arms and feeling her own hands clench against his back.

The smell of her hair overwhelmed his nostrils, and he breathed it in, finally letting loose the tension he hadn’t realized he was holding onto. He buried her body into his. “Thank the Cauldrons for you,” he whispered into her ear, pushing his forehead softly against the top of her temple.

She leaned slightly away from him, hands still on his back, and he saw her eyes glistening with tired tears that he knew would be coming later. She looked at him with a questioning gaze. As he locked onto her eyes again, he felt his heart ache, swollen with the love he felt for her in that moment.

“Ahem.” Kallias’s uncomfortable clearing of his throat snapped the two of them out of their daze as they turned their attention to him, and she instantly took several steps away from Cassian, crossing her arms and avoiding eye contact as her face visibly reddened. “I think...” His eyes darted between the two of them, then the rest of the Courts. “I think we should postpone the meeting until tomorrow, if it is not too inconvenient for the rest of the Courts. You all are free to stay here or return home in the meantime. I can have rooms made for you for the night in the meantime. I will see what I can dig up in the meantime.”

“As for you, Brigitte–” He turned to the Autumn Court woman, who looked to be in shock. “Please understand that you will have to be under supervision until then and will likely be asked many questions from the Winter Court tonight and other Courts tomorrow.” She nodded sheepishly. “Good. As for the rest of you, please let my attendants know if you wish to stay the night here. We will host the meeting at 7 AM tomorrow.”

The rest of the noise got drowned out again, as Cassian studied Nesta’s torn expression.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As people swirled around her, trying to sort out their plans for the next 24 hours, Nesta only had one thought on her mind.

She was angry with herself. Very angry. She couldn’t believe she had just indulged herself with this male _in public_. Mate or no, she was losing control of her emotions. It was becoming unbelievable. She’d gone her whole life shutting everyone out, and yet the one time she’s in front of everyone, she lets down her guard for _him_? She had completely forgotten anyone else was even there!

Yes, she knew her feelings for him. Yes, she...loved him, a lot deeper than she would ever admit to anyone, let alone him. Yes, she had let herself... _slip_ with him on multiple occasions. Occasions that were becoming alarmingly more often, more physical, and most concerning to her, more emotional. Even now, she knew he was looking at her, and every bit of her body and brain were screaming at her to be with him, next to him.

But she knew there was no hope for it, for them, for this mating bond between them. She didn’t know why she kept giving in so much, why she kept taunting herself, pretending that she could have a normal relationship. As much as she wanted him, as much as she knew he wanted her, she could not risk hurting someone like him simply for her own indulgence. She knew who she was. She knew what would inevitably happen. She needed to stop herself.

She asked Mor to winnow her home and went straight to her room, not speaking to anyone for the rest of the night.


	16. Chapter 16

The sun shone in through the townhouse’s upper window, waking Nesta at the crest of dawn. She groaned, but got out of bed and started getting ready, trying to get used to her new routine. It had been a long three days since the events in the Winter Court. 

In response to her testimony, the Summer and Day Courts had agreed to work together to further analyze the pathogen sample in a secure setting and work to develop the antidote Eris had shown them existed. The four Courts had also decided to mount a collective defense against the triad of Courts allying with the King of Hybern, and multinational units were being sent to the Day/Dawn, Winter/Autumn, and especially the Summer Court borders to patrol and check for any signs of troop activity, while regular diplomatic meetings were starting.

This also meant Feyre and the Illyrians were gone for the next 24 hours to some huge summit in the Day capital, a big relief for her. Cassian had tried to visit twice in the 72 hours since the Winter Court incidents, and it had taken every ounce of her energy to not come down for him. But she needed this space.

She felt her mating bond swirl with anxiety, a common trait now that Cassian was having to engage in war strategy discussions seemingly every day. Perhaps sensing her thinking about him, she felt the ripple along the bond. She ignored it. He kept trying to check in with her periodically, though she wasn’t ready to engage him yet. Cassian and she had jumped so fast into their bond that she hadn’t realized it was adjusting her outlook on everything. They had gotten dangerously close to each other; any further, and she knew it would be impossible for them to ever think practically about their situation again. She was seeing things as she wanted them to be, not how they actually were. 

Seeing him again would...just bring that back. Even now, it concerned her that they could feel and interact with the bond more, despite the emotional and physical distance she had placed.

In the meantime, she had set up her own daily ritual, starting with a morning run and exercise, followed with magic and combat training if either Rhys or Feyre was free. The rest of the day, she tried using her own magic, alternating between the various powers she had when she got tired. Unfortunately, outside her healing powers, she couldn’t seem to get anything resembling solid control of any of her powers. She promised herself she wouldn’t get discouraged – it had only been a few days, after all – but it was still frustrating to see how easily the rest of the team handled their powers compared to her.

Tugging on her second fighting boot, she went out to go for her morning run, trying to stay in shape for the coming war. She didn’t make it past the living room, however, before she was stopped by an unexpected sight: Feyre. She studied her sister carefully as she rounded the base of the stairs.

“Wasn’t there a summit at the Day Court today you should be at?”

“Yes. But I have a more important mission.” Feyre crossed her arms.

“Oh? Well, I have my morning run to attend to. But maybe you can tell me all about it when I get back.” Nesta gave a dismissive look as she continued moving towards the door. Predictably, her sister shifted in her way. She tried to squeeze past, but Feyre put her arm against the wall, blocking her path. Eyes darkening, she turned her head. “ _What?_ ”

“Tell me why you’ve been so infuriatingly closed-off the last few weeks.” 

Nesta stepped back, crossing her own arms. “It’s not important nor, may I point out, is it your business.”

“It’s my business when you’re affecting the rest of the Court, Nesta.” Feyre’s hands shifted to her hips and she scowled, causing even Nesta to back up a bit from the unusual condemnation.

“If Cassian can’t handle a few days apart from–”

“Cauldron, Nesta. It’s not just Cassian!” Nesta swallowed. “Morrigan, Elain, heck even Rhys are getting unnecessarily distracted by your ‘I’m-too-edgy-for-my-own-good’ routine.”

“If you’re just here to piss me off, Feyre, you can save it.”

“I’m not. In fact, I have an offer for you, which I please, please, pleaseeee ask that you consider.” She paused to gauge Nesta’s reaction, but Nesta stared at her silently, arms still crossed. “You tell me what’s going on with you that’s making you so uptight and unapproachable to everyone, and I’ll give you a mission finally. There’s something you can help me with.”

Nesta narrowed her eyes. “I wasn’t aware my feelings were bargainable.”

Feyre gave out an exasperated sigh. “Nesta, please. They’re not. I just was hoping you’d at least talk to me.”

Nesta didn’t get a response out before Elain made her own entrance down the stairs. Noticing Nesta and Feyre, she smiled. “Did you tell her about our mission yet?”

Feyre grimaced, but she tried to lighten it as much as possible for Elain’s sake. “I was about to, but why don’t you, Elain, while I make breakfast?” Nesta rolled her eyes at Feyre’s transparent attempt to soften her, knowing that she wouldn’t be as harsh to Elain. Though...she _was_ grateful that Feyre had not punished Lucien for taking her into the Winter Court. Chatting with Elain in the evenings was the one bright spot she got to look forward to every day. She turned to Elain expectantly as her sisters exchanged spots.

“Feyre and I were planning on going to the Mortal Lands tomorrow.”

Nesta’s eyes widened, then cocked in skepticism. “You’re going into the human world...as Fae.” Her voice came out at a low deadpan. “I’m sure that’ll go over _real_ well.”

“We’re using glamours to appear human.” Feyre’s voice called from the kitchen. “Well, Elain is, anyway.”

Nesta opened her mouth to respond, but paused as Feyre’s words registered and she started putting together the pieces. She spun back to Elain. “You’re doing the mission _alone_?”

“Well–”

“Are you guys insane? This is ridiculous. She can’t even protect herself!” Nesta cut Elain off, steaming, directing her words back and forth between the two of them.

“If you’d let me speak, _Nesta_ –” Elain’s eyes narrowed, and Nesta staggered a bit at her sister cutting her off, before snorting and leaning against the wall. “–we tested the glamour potions yesterday, and they seem to wear off far too quickly for Feyre. Amren suggested that the intensity of her powers may simply overwhelm the magic from the potion, so...” Elain looked briefly in the direction of the kitchen as she dragged off, then snapped her eyes back to Nesta with a smile. “...we were hoping you’d do the mission with me instead!” Nesta blinked and looked in Feyre’s direction, her silhouette barely visible around the kitchen doorway, trying to figure out her motive. “Feyre will still be with us, but she’ll have to stay at the house, putting up the glamour only if someone showed up looking for her.”

Nesta narrowed her eyes. “Why?” Elain blinked in surprise, and Nesta called out to Feyre. “Why me? You’ve been trying to keep me from helping since you got back.” She heard a thud as Feyre slammed a knife into the cutting board, sighing sharply, then exited the kitchen to join them.

“That is _not_ true. I’ve been trying to prevent you from getting over your head in some mad zeal to–”

“Feyre...” Elain made eye contact with Feyre, and Feyre threw up her arms.

“Fine. It’s a safe mission for you to help us with while you’re still getting your powers acquainted. The others in my Court are busy preparing for work on the front lines, which are more important tasks for them to be doing at the moment, and Elain needs to have backup. I can still help you train in the mornings or nights, whichever you prefer. And most importantly, you know the town better than anyone else I could possibly send.” Feyre put her hands on her hips and stared at Nesta, who stared defiantly back. “Is that good enough of a reason?”

Nesta’s face betrayed no emotion as she answered coldly. “What would we be doing?”

“When...the day this all started–” Feyre hesitated, thinking how best to phrase her words. “–do you remember the mercenary in town who bought An...the wolf pelt off me? Amren thinks that they have information on Hybern’s activities from before I originally came to Prythian. I wanted to see if I could track them down.”

“For what purpose?”

“I want to get an insight into Hybern’s actions. Nothing they’re doing at the moment, outside attempting some form of mass poisoning, makes _any_ sense. Why kidnap you specifically? Why the attack on the Day Court?”

“And you want us to go into town to see what information we can find on the mercenary.” Nesta frowned and averted her eyes downward, considering the likelihood of running into _him_. She’d be with Elain, so she’d always have an excuse to be somewhere else, and she could try to keep a low profile... “How long?”

“Four days. We’ll be back at the end of the week.” Feyre shifted uncomfortably and looked at Elain. Nesta sharpened her eyes. “We were...well...”

“We were hoping being away from Velaris would help you relax a bit.” Elain finished the sentence for her sister, and Nesta’s eyes shifted. “Even I know when not to ask you about something, and I trust Feyre’s attempt this morning went as poorly as I warned her it would, judging on what I walked in on.”

“I see.” Nesta shoved her arms tighter against her ribcage as she re-averted her eyes. “Any other topics you guys like discussing besides how to ‘attempt’ with me?”

“You know I didn’t mean it like that, Nesta!” Elain glared at her, but Nesta was still unwilling to make eye contact. “We’re your sisters; excuse us if we care about your well-being.”

Nesta exhaled. “Fine. Anything to get out of here. What do I need to do?” She raised her eyes to meet her sisters’, both of theirs filled with exasperation. Feyre and Elain looked at each other, before Feyre shrugged and replied.

“We’ll discuss over breakfast. Until then, can you please try to be civil with us?” Nesta’s eyes dulled, and she merely gave a brief huff of annoyed concession as she went to sit down and her sisters went to the kitchen to finish prep.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Elain, I’m not comfortable with–”

“I’m sorry, Nesta, but you aren’t my protector, even if you’ve self-appointed yourself to that position.”

Nesta gritted her teeth defensively at Elain’s remarks. The rest of the day had involved them running through various strategies and testing the glamour potion on Nesta. It lasted around 8 hours, or about a third of the time it lasted for Elain. It was decided she’d have to have a vial on her just in case. For the most part, discussions had gone smoothly, until Elain had suggested contacting Graysen’s father.

“I’m not trying to be. But he treated you poorly.”

“Not really.” Elain shifted uncomfortably. “I can’t say I enjoyed the relationship, and I will never defend his family’s and his absurd prejudice against the Fae, but I wouldn’t be in any danger.” She shifted her eyes back to Nesta, trying to put emphasis on her words to combat Nesta’s personality. “His father is very powerful politically. If anyone would know, he would.”

“What if the glamour wears off for some reason? Don’t say you won’t be in any danger. His family would probably kill you, Elain!”

“If there’s any danger of that, I’ll contact Lucien to come winnow me out.” 

Nesta paused at her words. “He’s a daemati?”

Elain blinked, taken a bit aback. “No. Through the mating bond.” A pain hit Nesta’s gut at the reminder of how much more Elain had worked on her bond, and how both of her sisters blindly accepted it. Another ripple arrived along her mating bond in response to her pain, and she narrowed her eyes. In spite, she tried to send back the equivalent of a vulgar gesture, before turning to Feyre.

“Fine. But I want to leave tonight.” Feyre and Elain exchanged sharp glances again. “Stop doing that! Stop treating this like a 2-on-1 situation. I want to leave tonight.”

“Nesta, I’d have to rush preparations–”

“Do you want my help or not?” She felt a little guilty at emotionally manipulating Feyre, but if her sisters were going to gang up on her for her supposed benefit, she could play that game too. Feyre swallowed and nodded.

“I’ll see what I can do. Pack for at least a week, just in case, and meet back here in two hours.”

In response, Nesta headed up the stairs, silent in her agreement.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Cassian stood at the door of the townhouse and sighed, hand on the handle. She had responded so forcefully along the mating bond earlier that he’d felt like he’d been stabbed, and he’d barely been able to maintain his stoic expression at the meeting. He was not looking forward to this.

“For Cauldron’s sake, Cassian, just open the door.” Rhys shoved him out of the way, flashing him a knowing smirk.

“Yes, Rhys, because as we all know, you’ve never had to deal with a pissed off Archeron woman before.” Cassian remarked with a deadpan as Rhys pushed down on the handle and slid open the door. Rhys turned back as he pushed the door open, in a low whisper.

“Yeah, but we all know how that ended.” With a wink, he disappeared inside to the dark interior. Azriel followed shortly after, shaking his head at the both of them. Cassian sighed again. He knew Rhys was worried about Nesta too, if not to the same degree, and was just trying to keep him from fretting about it. 

He knew what angry Nesta looked like – if she was truly _mad_ at him, she would’ve done enough verbal damage already to eviscerate most males. But this was a new Nesta, one he hadn’t seen before. He’d never seen her this closed-off before, not even in the human world. There she’d shielded herself from everyone else, but not from him, though he doubted she realized that. Even so, he knew they both had been aware of the dangerous game they’d been playing, and she hadn’t run from his gaze back then. Not like she was doing now. No, this signaled something deeper, something unpredictable. And that scared him.

With a final push of resolve, and a knowledge that waiting any longer would look ridiculous and obvious to Nesta, he followed Azriel into the house, shutting the door behind him. He flexed his wings, stiffened his back, and steeled his eyes as he walked into the living room in preparation of...a mostly empty room. He frowned.

“They’re already asleep? It’s only a few hours past sundown.” Rhys eyed him, shielding most of the nervousness in his eyes, though Cassian caught a glimpse, before throwing him a sealed envelope.

“Seems like they left for the Mortal Lands early.” He waved a second letter in the air, before tossing it lightly back on the table.

Cassian looked down at the envelope in his hands. His name was scribbled on it in Nesta’s handwriting, and he decided a small delay in opening it wouldn’t hurt, as he fiddled with it in his hands. He looked back up at Rhys. “Feyre didn’t tell you?”

“No. But if I had to guess...” Rhys looked at Az, then back at Cassian and shrugged. “...I would say it would have something to do with Nesta. Open that, and I’ll talk to Feyre a bit.” He sat down in a chair and closed his eyes, talking to his mate.

Cassian swallowed, looking at the back of the envelope in anxiety, before ripping the top open roughly, releasing the parchment inside. His eyes scanned the paper.

_To the bastard-born nobody who reads this,_

_I realize you see yourself as a magnet uniquely capable at attracting females, but I assure you that you can last a week with a short in your circuitry. I suggest you concentrate on tasks that are actually urgent for now, like organizing those “important” armies you command or increasing the hours you stare at yourself in the mirror every day._

_In the meantime, I will be minding my own business, and you should mind yours._

_~ Nesta Archeron_

He crumpled the paper in his hand and growled in irritation. Rhys opened his eyes and looked up at him.

“I think we could’ve safely predicted that reaction. Anything important?” A sharp glare from Cassian as he pocketed her letter resulted in the raising of Rhys’s eyebrows as he stood up. “Figured. They left early, but they’re still expecting to be back on the same day, five mornings from now. So we’ll keep the plan the same for now. And with that said–” He laughed and patted Cassian on the shoulder as he passed him in sympathy, which Cassian promptly, roughly shrugged off. “–I’m going to turn in, and I suggest you do too.” Rhys left the townhouse to go to his room in the House of Winds, and Azriel shook his head again as he passed Cassian on his way out.

“What?” Cassian’s voice came out in the same growl, matching his mood.

Azriel widened his eyes and put up his hands in innocence. “You knew what you were getting into, Cassian.” As soon as he finished his sentence, he was gone in a thin layer of darkness and flickering shadow, leaving Cassian to fume in silence.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Nesta studied her old bedroom in the manor, eyes drifting along all the familiar items. In truth, it had only been about six weeks since she had last set foot here. Since she was...human. So why did it feel like she was visiting something archaic, historical? She clenched her hands in annoyance. With her Fae senses, she picked up every scent in the house, the old wood giving off a strong stench. And she could already tell the bed would be too small for her taller frame.

She walked to the closet, picking through all her now-useless dresses, far too short for her Fae body. Maybe if she sewed extra layers at the base, maybe she could salvage some of them...

“Nesta?”

She jumped in place and whirled angrily at a surprised Feyre, who rounded the open bedroom door. “What?”

Feyre’s face tightened in indignation, but she bit her lip and breathed. “I was just stopping by to see if you needed anything before bed, but I can see that you don’t want company. I’ll be in my room if you need me.” She turned on her heel and walked swiftly out of Nesta’s room, closing the door behind her emphatically.

Nesta merely blinked and turned back to her bed. Feyre could fume all she wanted; she wanted to be alone, and she had no time for the nosiness of her youngest sister. Cassian either, she thought, as she winced as a strong pulse shot down the mating bond, no doubt the result of her letter. Let him be mad. Let them all be mad. Maybe it would give her the space she wanted.

She laid down on her bed, willing herself to leave the world behind as she fell into a shallow, restless sleep.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Cass!” Rhys pushed open the unlocked door of Cassian’s apartment and blinked, trying to adjust to the darker environment compared to the dawn light outside. Cassian merely grunted in response, and Rhys found him doing push-ups on his living room floor. “I was about to go hunting if you–”

“Sure.” Cassian got up quickly, sweat draining down his face and clothes. That’s when Rhys noticed the exercise equipment scattered, the harsh stench...

“When did you get up?”

“Yesterday.” Cassian brushed past Rhys as he breathed out the word, reaching for a towel hanging on one of the side walls to wipe off his face and neck.

“You sure you want to–”

“Yes. I’ll be right back.” Cassian bounded up the stairs to the upper floor, and Rhys scrunched his face, trying to think how he wanted to deal with this situation. He sent a line down his mating bond.

_You awake?_

_I am now. Care to join me?_

Rhys groaned and silently cursed this situation with Cassian. He allowed himself to debate how much time it would take Cassian to get ready, then let reality bring him down.

_I wish. Cassian stuff. And asking Mor to winnow me seems...tacky._

_Mm. Too bad._

She filled his mind with _very_ pleasant imagery, and he winced.

_That’s just rude._

_I’ll make a mental note not to send you pictures ever again._

_Let’s not be hasty._

He smiled at their banter, then remembered the original reason he was contacting her.

_Is Nesta doing better?_

_Like I would know. She’s said one word to me since we left last night._ She briefly paused, then... _How’s Cassian doing?_

_You don’t want to know, believe me. Worse than you’ve ever seen him._

_Welcome to Nesta’s charm. Good luck on your end._

_Save it for yourself; you’ll need it more._

_Fair._

He heard Cassian moving towards the stair above him, and he rushed out a last message.

_Cassian’s here. Got to go._

_K. Offer stands for tonight if you want a second chance._

He crossed his eyes. Great, now he was going to be thinking about that all day; he could almost hear Feyre’s laugh over the bond.

Cassian came into view, a bit cleaned up, with his archery accoutrements tied to his back, and moved past Rhys on his way to the door. Feeling uneasy about Cassian’s exhaustion, Rhys spoke up.

“You _sure_ you–”

Cassian turned his head as he continued to walk towards the door. “We talking or hunting?”

Rhys just shrugged, following his Commander out of his apartment.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Nesta awoke from where she was slumped on the dining room table, as she heard footsteps approach. She’d woken long before dawn, unable to sleep properly in her old bed, and had decided that getting a late night snack was preferable to the back pain of lying down. She supposed her exhaustion had taken hold of her in the dining room, though her neck shot in pain with the reminder that this was not a particularly pleasant place to sleep either.

“If you can’t sleep, I’d recommend the couch next time.” Nesta rolled her eyes at Feyre’s voice as her sister walked past her into the kitchen. She tried to discreetly stretch out her neck to work off the pain as she responded.

“Because I clearly planned this.” The sounds of pots clanging in the background met her response.

“You know, one of these days, you’re going to have to go a full day without making a single sarcastic comment, Nesta.” Nesta could almost hear Feyre’s eyes rolling upwards in impatience. “Now go get dressed; your carriage leaves in 30 minutes.”

Nesta leaned back in her chair. “I always run in the mornings.”

“You want to run in the Mortal Lands?” Feyre’s voice called back from the kitchen, and Nesta sighed in reluctant concession. She supposed she’d be getting exercise from walking around the town that day, anyway. The chair creaked as she stood up, gripping her side at the eruption of pain there as well, and went up to her room.

When she made it back downstairs, she saw Elain and Feyre already eating at the table across from each other, with her plate next to Elain. She sat down and began eating, ignoring Feyre’s amused gaze, waiting for a snarky comment from her. When her sister didn’t get one, she started talking.

“So this mercenary had a lot of exotic items on them, many I hadn’t seen before. But the real way to identify her are the scars on her arm and leg. Her leg should still be blackened from the poison from the attack. In fact...” Feyre nervously looked between them. “...not to get your hopes up, but we’re thinking the poison may be the same poison that we’ve been fighting in Prythian. That’s why Amren thinks she has information.”

“How are we supposed to find her? We can’t exactly be asking people in town if they’ve seen a mercenary who claims to have been attacked by Fae. They’ll think we’re crazy.” Nesta spoke in between bites, her stomach grateful for the sustenance. She hadn’t fully eaten in days, with all the anxiety over Cassian.

“Try to remember her face, if you can. If that doesn’t work, you can mention the exotic items or the fact she had an excessive amount of coin for someone coming through our town, but I’m not looking to send thieves her way, so try not to use that information unless necessary. You could always mention the wolf pelt too; it’s been less than a year since I met her, after all.”

Nesta caught her breath and paused her eating. If six weeks had felt like an eternity to her, she wondered what _months_ had felt like to Feyre, with everything else she’d had to endure. Misinterpreting Nesta’s hesitation, Feyre quickly resumed speaking.

“Anyways, your carriage is about to arrive, so both of you need to take your potions and I’ll make myself scarce.” Feyre slid two vials towards Nesta and one towards Elain. Nesta opened her pocketbook...then thought better of it, closing the pocketbook and sticking the second vial in the side of her bra. Making eye contact with Elain, they both took their first doses. The warmth of the liquid filled Nesta as it flowed through her, and she instantly saw Elain’s image quickly morph into that of her human form, knowing the same was happening to her.

Elain squeezed her hand, and they both got up from the table, preparing to await their ride into town. Nesta took one last glance at her youngest sister before departing, and Feyre flashed her a look that promised information if asked. She considered the offer for a moment, but ultimately turned away, following Elain outside.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Nesta pursed her lips in impatience as she crossed her arms, shifting against the side of the store building she was leaning on. Elain and she had been people-watching for _hours_ , and yet none of their old upper-class “friends” had been spotted. Nor had anyone they recognized from their social class at all, for that matter.

“I can’t imagine they all moved. Something must be up.” As Nesta spoke, Elain turned towards her, a frustrated scrunch filling her features.

“Give me a second.” Elain hurried off before Nesta could respond, though her eyes followed her all the way towards a trader. About ten minutes later, Elain returned, holding a basket of fresh crops. Nesta raised her eyebrow.

“‘A second?’”

“Oh please.” Elain gave a brief look of vexation at her sister, then continued. “In the middle of bartering for these, I lamented how the high-value traders were nowhere to be seen, how I’d _really_ wanted this one fur cloak I had seen a few weeks ago. The trader was more than happy to chat me up. As a result, I greatly overpaid for these–” She lifted the basket. “–but I more than made up for it with the information I got.” She put a smug smile on her face, and Nesta rolled her eyes.

“Alright, you win. You’re the greatest diplomat ever. What did you find out?”

“Don’t mock me.” Elain stuck out her tongue. “My skills are more useful than yours in some situations, Nesta, as hard as that may be for you to believe.” Nesta stared back at her in irritation, so she continued. “Fine, fine. Apparently the noblemen and women were warned to return to the capitol in response to the Queen’s...‘disappearance.’ They expect unrest without a clear leader and with no clear enemy to pin the ‘kidnapping’ on.”

Nesta groaned. “That’s a full day’s carriage ride from here.”

“I’m not sure what other choice we have. Even Graysen’s family is in the capitol, so there’s not much we can do here. The village peasants aren’t going to know much about a mercenary who traded in items far exceeding their income. And for the record, I did give the mercenary’s description as the cloak trader I was looking for, and the trader couldn’t recall ever seeing her. I think we should regroup at the manor with Feyre, discuss our plan more in depth, then set off tomorrow. A day trip there and back, and we still have a day to investigate before we need to return home.”

Nesta eyed her middle sister, but ultimately decided she was right. Sighing, she nodded and followed as Elain led the way back to the carriage to travel back to the manor.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“No.”

Nesta gave off an irritated laugh, and Elain leaned back in her chair in surprise at Feyre’s quick response.

“No. This was never the plan. We’ll have to go back to the Night Court and work out another way to find her.”

“Feyre.” Elain’s expression had changed from that of shock to disbelief. “Who knows how much time we have? We can be there and back before we were scheduled to be back in Velaris anyway.”

“Do the two of you realize what would happen if you were found out _in the Capitol_?” Incredulity lit up Feyre’s features as she looked between the two of them. “We’d be lucky if they planned public executions, as it would give us time to rescue you. More likely, you’d be attacked and slain on the spot. In a worst-case scenario, I know you guys could escape from the village town. But at the Capitol, you’d be by yourselves, way too far from me for me to be able to even know you’re in danger.”

“I can contact Lucien.” Elain retorted, frustration filling her voice. “He could get us out.”

“Lucien has no knowledge of any of the Mortal Lands’ geography. How do you expect him to find you? He can’t exactly be asking around for you.”

“So you won’t let us go, because there’s _risk_ involved? You’re only giving us missions that are completely safe?” Nesta fumed at her sister, who returned the same anger in her own eyes.

“Unapologetically, yes. I will not be responsible for one or both of my sisters getting killed.”

“Well, aren’t we lucky Rhys didn’t take the same attitude with you.”

Feyre caught her breath in her throat at Nesta’s comment, then stood up abruptly. “ _How dare you_ ,” she breathed in Nesta’s direction, before addressing the both of them. “You’re not going. This discussion is over.” Almost knocking over her chair, she stormed upstairs, as Elain turned to Nesta, wincing.

“Nest–”

Elain’s voice was drowned out by the sound of Nesta’s own chair sliding out. “I’m going to rest.” She felt Elain’s eyes follow her back as she climbed the stairs, hoping the sleep would diffuse her tension at Feyre.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Cassian closed his eyes as he sat down at his favorite spot on the edge of the cliff overseeing Velaris, letting the cool night breeze flow past his wings. There was always something about this spot that just seemed to calm him, and he was glad he finally had a moment to breathe.

“I’m surprised you’re admiring something other than yourself.”

He opened his eyes and put a grin on his face, as he slid over to make room for Nesta, and she sat down next to him, her legs dangling over the cliffside. She turned towards him, her cold, blue eyes piercing his as she gave him a smirk of her own.

“Trust me, sweetheart, I admire _lots_ of things.” He made a good show of scanning her body as his grin extended across his face, and she rolled her eyes in response, turning her head away as she stared out over the city. “I can show you in more detail, if you’d like.”

She snorted – she had the nerve to _snort_ at a smile that normally had women begging for his attention – and turned back to him. “Sorry.” Her eyes flashed at his, and his intrigue grew at the challenge. “I prefer males who can actually back up their talk.”

His smile grew even more. “Believ–”

“Cassian!”

He whipped his head to his right to find the source of the sound, but he found the cliff empty, outside the two of them. “Did you hear tha–” He turned back, and Nesta was gone as well. He blinked in shock... 

...and woke up on the couch in his living room. He dug his head into one of the pillows on the armrest. _Shit._ He was dreaming about her insulting him now, of all things.

“Yo, Cass, you in here?” Mor’s voice sounded throughout his apartment, and he cringed at the headache he soon realized he had.

“Ungh.” He made out a grunt and raised his arm from the couch, not wanting to get up. He wondered how many hours he’d managed to sleep since he’d returned from hunting with Rhys. He vaguely remembered collapsing on the couch, his body forcing itself to sleep after he worked it to complete exhaustion.

“Woah, did you guys have a party in here?” Mor pushed aside the dirty dinner plates he’d left on the coffee table in front of the couch, so she could sit down. Her eyes gazed over all the scattered exercise equipment and ruffled furniture upholstery. He rubbed his eyes and turned onto his back, so he could turn his head to her easier.

“I had a busy day of training with Rhys. Fell asleep as soon as I got home. I’ll clean it up in a second.”

She laughed again. “I’ll help you out; don’t want to push you too hard with how you look right now.” She turned to her side to stack the plates in her hands, then turned back to him. “Though, you know, I’ve heard beds are far more comfortable to sleep on. Just as a word of advice for the future.” She winked and took the stack of plates over to the kitchen.

He groaned back in response. There’s no way he could sleep in his bed, not with her scent coating every inch of it. But if he wasn’t going to tell Rhys that fact, he sure as hell wasn’t going to tell _Mor_.

“Get up. You’re not going to be able to sleep through the night if you nap all evening.” He heard the sink start as her voice trailed from the kitchen, and he begrudgingly obliged. He stared at the exercise equipment strewn across the floor and, sighing, started to pick them up and put them away. “I would ask what’s wrong, but I think everyone in Velaris knows the answer to that question.” He growled out a warning that meant he didn’t want to talk about it, and he heard her pause. “Well, I didn’t realize it was _that_ bad. But fair. I actually came over here for a different reason, anyway.” The sink shut off, and she came back in, drying her hands on a hand towel. “I want you to come have dinner with the rest of your family, like it’s a normal day, even if you feel like shit.”

“No.” His reply was short and harsh; he didn’t particularly want to talk to _anyone_ right now.

“It’ll get you out of the apartment~~” He closed his closet doors and froze, hand still on the door, thinking. He knew that Mor was trying to get him to socialize, which he _didn’t_ want, but if he could escape Nesta’s scent for a few hours...maybe he could regain control of his thoughts, if just for a little bit.

“Fine. But I’m not interested in talking to anyone.”

“Probably for the best. There’s only so much that can be said in terms of compliments about oneself.”

He snorted at her and walked towards the door, her smile not hiding the subtle flicker of pity in her emotions only visible to an eye as trained as his. He didn’t acknowledge it, though, hoping that this attempt by her would succeed, even as he knew it likely wouldn’t.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Nesta!”

Nesta groaned as she felt hands grip her sides and push her awake from the downstairs couch. Once again, she hadn’t been able to sleep in her bed, so she had finally just given up and taken Feyre’s advice. She opened her eyes to see Elain standing in front of her. She opened her mouth to speak, but Elain put a finger against her lips, so she tilted her head questioningly. Elain spoke in a soft whisper.

“Get up; it just turned dark.”

Nesta arched an eyebrow and laid her head back down. “And?”

“We’re going to the Capitol.”

Nesta shot up, silent except for the blanket sliding onto the couch. “How?”

“I paid off the carriage driver to take us tonight. We’ll arrive tomorrow night, and I have more than enough coin to cover lodging for two days and whatever else we’ll need.”

Nesta slowly realized what Elain was suggesting, and she turned her eyes towards the staircase as she whispered back. “But what about the potions? I only have one vial on me.” Elain fumbled for a bit with her bag, and Nesta noticed her bag had already been brought down as well. In a moment, Elain was holding out her palms, eight vials lining them and shining against the hallway light trickling in.

“I have more, in case we need them.”

Nesta’s breath stuck in her. “Are you sure–”

Elain’s gaze hardened towards her as she put the vials away in her bag, except for one, which she gave to Nesta. “Don’t tell me you don’t have the same feelings I do about our life with Feyre in that run-down cottage, living off of her hard work and never showing any form of gratitude. That situation was both of our faults, and I intend to try and start paying my debt to her back now, even if it means disobeying her. You can join me or you can stay here; it’s your choice.”

Nesta met her sister’s gaze, as she endured a familiar pang of guilt. She nodded. “Alright.”

Elain nodded back and jerked her neck towards the front door. “Feyre’s taking a bath at the moment. We need to go now. If the carriage gets stopped for any reason, make sure you take the potion immediately. My dose from this morning should be good for the entire night.” She picked up her bag and moved towards the door, not making a sound. Nesta stood up as quietly as she could, lugging her bag after her. As she exited the front door, she pushed it back enough to look closed, but not enough that Feyre would hear the distinctive clicking noise. 

As she threw her bag on the floor of the cab and shut the carriage door behind her, she took one last glance at the manor and silently promised Feyre that Elain and she would come back alive. Elain’s hand gripped hers, and she knew her sister had done the same. She rapped on the screen shielding them from the driver, and she heard the horses whinny as they began to slowly move the carriage down the dirt road. Elain leaned against her shoulder to sleep, and she decided to follow her sister’s lead, while they knew they safely could.

As a final thought, in the fleeting moments before she closed her eyes and drifted into the welcoming darkness of rest, she strummed her mating bond with the same promise she made to her sister.


	17. Chapter 17

Cassian hesitated, eyes staring blankly into his food. He was second-guessing himself, wondering if he’d really felt that movement along his mating bond. He debated answering back, whether she’d consider that a violation of her request to him in the letter, but he couldn’t imagine it would be if she had contacted him first...

“Something wrong with the food?” 

He looked up at Mor’s question and realized the whole table was staring at him. He snorted and waved them off, and they shook their heads at him, Mor raising an eyebrow in silent question, before resuming their conversation. Well, everyone but Lucien, that is, who looked even more worse-for-wear than he did. Cassian didn’t _really_ feel sorry for the guy after all the suffering he allowed Feyre to go through in the Spring Court. Still, it was hard not to pity anyone who looked _that_ lonely, as Elain was usually the only one to talk to him during dinners, for that very reason. Speaking of... An idea for a loophole to the letter entered his mind, and he turned his gaze fully onto Lucien.

“How’s Elain doing, by the way?”

The whole table quieted at him finally breaking his silence, though Lucien didn’t bother to meet his gaze.

“I’m not spying on Nesta for you, Cassian.”

Cassian furrowed his brow in irritation at Lucien. “I didn’t ask about her, now did I.”

Lucien finally made eye contact, putting down his silverware to grab his drink. “Elain’s asleep, if you must know.”

“This early?” His earnest questioning earned him more than a few eyebrows from the table, most dramatically from Lucien, as the rest of the Night Court continued to observe this conversation in curiosity.

“They have to travel early in the mornings. Is it that surprising?” Once again, Lucien didn’t bother even looking up, Cassian’s plan as transparent as it was.

“There a reason for this, Cassian?” Rhys spoke up from the end of the table, wearing a reserved look on his face. Cassian debated mentioning the bond’s movement, but he felt no anxiety, no danger along the mating bond right now, and if he had just imagined it...

“No, it’s...just forget I said anything. I’m done with dinner, anyway.” He stood up, and Mor responded in kind.

“You’ve barely even eaten!”

“I wasn’t that hungry. Thanks for the invite, by the way. Turned out great.” Mor gritted her teeth at the tone of his comments, but he spun on his heels, walking out into the main hallway of the House of Winds and feeling the entire room’s eyes on his back. He couldn’t think about their reaction right now though – he needed to figure out a way to investigate this further without arousing even _more_ suspicion.

“Hold up.” He groaned and sped up his walking at Lucien’s voice and rapid footsteps behind him. He regretted even starting the conversation now. “Cassian!”

“Can I help you, Lucien?” His words came out in a low growl, warning he wanted to be left alone, as he continued to walk towards the front door. Maybe a flight would calm his mind, let him think this situation through.

“When you start talking about my mate randomly, with no clarification, then yes, you can help me.” Lucien finally caught up to him, matching his footsteps. Cassian attempted to keep a step ahead, almost to the door...

“As I said, forget I said anything.”

“To hell with that.” Lucien grabbed Cassian’s arm to prevent him from opening the door, and he spun towards Lucien in response, threatening him with his full wings extended. Lucien backed up slightly in intimidation, but, to his credit, managed to keep his grip. “What are you concerned about?”

“First, don’t _ever_ touch me again.” He pushed Lucien off as he replied with a deep snarl, and the man barely managed to stay standing from the force. “Secondly–” He grimaced as he saw who was leaning against the near wall, then adjusted his tone into one of inconvenience. “Can I help you, Rhys?”

“I think you can help both of us.” Rhys’s cool eyes met his as he crossed his arms in response.

“There’s nothing–”

“If it’s nothing, I’m sure you wouldn’t mind us checking up on them.” Rhys interrupted him, impatience and consternation lining his voice. Cassian exhaled sharply, though he supposed he would act the same in the reverse situation.

“Rhys, I can’t go there, and you know that. Why not just ask Feyre if everything’s okay, if you’re that worried?”

Rhys stared back at him silently, considering the situation, before closing his eyes to communicate with his mate. A few moments later, he opened them in confusion. “She said they’re all there, safe, though they are coming back early.” He flickered his eyes to Cassian’s. “Are you sure something’s wrong?”

Cassian groaned. “Rhys, I’ve been telling you this entire time not to worry about it, that everything’s probably fine.”

“I guess–” Rhys’s eyes widened, and he blinked in shock. “Cassian, you need to take me there immediately.”

“Rhys–” Cassian started, but Rhys growled back.

“She’s not there; just do it.” Cassian took a second to digest, then grabbed Rhys’s arm. He winnowed them out immediately, but not fast enough to prevent Lucien from grabbing his tunic.

He spun on Lucien, the trio now standing in the manor’s living room. “I didn’t remember you being invited.” Lucien narrowed his eyes in response.

“I don’t need to be _invited_ when the safety of my mate may be involved, Cassian.”

“Will the two of you shut up?” Cassian growled back at Lucien before turning to Feyre, who chastised them as she rapidly descended the stairs. She dismissed them and turned her attention to Rhys. “Oh gods, Rhys. They’re gone, their bags are gone. The carriage is gone too.” Rhys enveloped her in his arms, and she clung to him, letting her anxiety dissipate some, before separating. “How did you guys find out first?”

“Cassian.” Rhys kept his answer short to prevent Cassian earning a tongue-lashing from Feyre for initially withholding the information, but his eyes delivered a clear threat that he better start talking. Feyre looked his way, and Cassian conceded to Rhys.

“I just felt...a ripple on the mating bond. Not a normal one. Like...someone saying goodbye before a long voyage or something. I thought it might mean...something else.” He averted his eyes. “But I guess not.”

Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw a sympathetic look from Feyre, though she shook it off as she turned to the matter at hand. “I think I know where they’re going, but...” She pursed her lips in frustration. “...we can’t do anything about it.”

“Why not?” Everyone in the room turned to the words forcefully spoken, almost shouted, by Lucien, Feyre’s eyebrow raising in an unspoken dare for him to retain that tone. Cassian himself let out a small growl at the disrespect, although the darkness in Rhys’s eyes did far more to intimidate than anything he could exert. Admonished, Lucien composed himself, before continuing in a muted voice. “Why can’t we help them?”

“Because they’re going to the Capitol.” Feyre made a knowing eye contact with Rhys, then continued. “Rhys’s and my winnows are being tracked by Hybern, and I’m the only person here who has any working knowledge of the city’s layout.” She shrugged her shoulders in a defeated gesture. “Besides, any effort to help them would be more likely to expose them than protect them.”

“Why are they going to the Capitol?” Rhys asked softly.

“Most of our contacts moved to the Capitol in response to the Queen going to Prythian, and Elain and Nesta wanted to take the long trip rather than abort the mission. I told them no for safety reasons, and they didn’t particularly take it well. I guess they waited for me to get distracted, then took off anyway.”

“Can’t you talk to Elain, Lucien?” Cassian turned to him, still irritated at Lucien’s brusque tone towards his High Lady. “Convince them to come back?” Lucien blinked at him, before answering in disbelief.

“Elain’s just as stubborn as her sisters when she has her mind set on something, Cassian. I just don’t waste my time pushing back at her like you do with Nesta. So no, I can’t.” Cassian’s growl grew, and Lucien stared dourly back, as Rhys coughed uncomfortably.

“Guys, I realize these are your mates and all, but this–” He brushed his hand towards them. “–isn’t helping. If you need to get out energy, then by all means, do so outside.” He looked at Feyre, and she nodded.

“We can’t do anything until they wake up at the very least. So as frustrating as it is, we need to just wait and get some rest... _or whatever you males need_ –” She glared so harshly at Cassian and Lucien that even Cassian had to cower a little. “–until one of you can get in contact with them.” She closed her eyes, trying to slow her breathing. “All we can do is hope for their sakes for now.” She nodded in dismissal, and Rhys motioned with his eyes for Cassian to burn his energy outside as he followed her upstairs.

As Cassian left the house, cloaking himself in shadow with his magic, and took off for the open air, he sent a silent prayer back to Nesta, hoping she’d return safely.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Mm.” Nesta looked down at her sister, a big smile on her face as she slowly woke up against her shoulder. Nesta had woken up about an hour prior, but since Elain was sleeping so peacefully, she had just spent the time staring out the carriage window at the greenery they were passing and let Elain get the extra rest. With her Fae senses, she could see and smell things she never knew before. The greenery between the town and the palace was phenomenal, and the way the dawn light shone off the lake...

It was an hour past sunrise, so Nesta estimated they’d been traveling for about nine hours by this point. Elain stretched her arms as she sat up straight, smiling at her older sister.

“What’s got you so happy? It’s morning.” Nesta raised an eyebrow at her sister, who stuck her tongue out in reply.

“Some people like mornings, Nesta.” Elain covered her mouth as she yawned, then winked at her sister. “It also doesn’t hurt that Lucien sends me an image of something pretty every morning, when he senses me wake up.”

Nesta rolled her eyes. “‘Senses?’”

“Yes, senses. Lucien and I experimented with the bond a lot to see what we could communicate with it. So we can sense each other wake up and fall asleep without any effort now.” She paused her speech, and her face fell as her eyes softened. “It also helped that we had a full month apart to work on it beforehand.” Nesta flinched, knowing that Elain was likely thinking of Feyre and Lucien’s awkward plotting against each other in the Spring Court. She tried to steer her sister’s mind away from it.

“Speaking of the mating bond, can I ask you something, Elain?” Elain blinked in surprise, then nodded. “Why were you okay with it? It was someone you had never met, yet you seemed to...jump into it, if you don’t mind me putting it that way.”

“Well...” Elain thought for a moment. “I don’t know that I’d describe it that way. I guess I was just always open to it. I hadn’t exactly had the best history with men to begin with, so initially, I just figured this male couldn’t be much worse. Not to mention, with how hard it was to adjust to the Fae world, it was nice to have...something to latch onto, whether it would be temporary or permanent to me, whether or not I ever met him. But, he was so kind to me during that month, trying to cheer me up with images of the Spring Court when I was having bad days, trying to keep my spirits up...” She paused to consider her words, before explaining further. “...by the time he arrived in Velaris, I wanted to give him a real chance in return, especially...because I expected most of the Court wouldn’t.” Elain scrunched her face, and Nesta cringed at her initial question cycling back, though Elain saw her reaction and shook her head.

“It’s understandable; they all have poor histories with Lucien. I didn’t expect they would accept him as a friend, or even a reluctant ally, anytime soon.” She brushed her comments off with her hand. “But anyway, since he’s been in Velaris...he’s been the same male that I knew from the first time I could sense him. Just the kindest, most pure-hearted man. He wears his care for me openly on his sleeve.” She looked determinedly at Nesta. “There’s no one I’d rather have a mating bond with.”

Nesta gaped at her sister, but she couldn’t find the right response, so she eventually turned her head away, staring out the window again. After a few minutes, Elain spoke up again.

“Is...there a reason you asked?” Nesta closed her eyes. She knew Elain was trying to approach her situation with Cassian, and she still wasn’t sure she wanted to talk about it, but...maybe this was the best opportunity for her to do so, especially if the mission were to go sour somehow.

“I just don’t know if I want Cassian...or if the mating bond wants me to want him.” Her head was still turned towards the window, but she heard Elain shift in her seat.

“It’s not sentient, Nesta...”

“I know that.” Sighing, she finally turned to her sister, whose eyes were underlined with concern now. “I just don’t know how to know whether I’m interested because of _him_ or because of how the bond makes me feel, I guess is what I was trying to say.” Elain took some time to collect her thoughts, and Nesta went back to staring out the window, wondering if she even had the words to describe all the anxiety she felt over their relationship.

“You could reject the bond.” Her gut stung in response to Elain’s comment, and she spun around, half-expecting to admonish her sister for joking about the topic. But serious, unmoving eyes met her, and she sat back in her seat, revulsion filling her core.

“I can’t...I couldn’t...”

“It would remove the bond’s effect on your relationship; you’d only feel what you’d feel in a normal relationship.” Elain’s eyes were dull, but firm, and Nesta knew she wasn’t suggesting this likely. “If that’s what you want.”

Thoughts spun through her head; she had never even _considered_ rejecting the bond. She knew, as she had known from the moment she knew of the bond, that that was never an option. She just was...incapable of it. She could _never_ do that to him...or herself. She shook her head forcefully at her sister.

“I won’t reject him.” Elain looked at her, a thin smile curling her lips.

“Then isn’t that an answer in and of itself?”

Nesta leaned her back against the door of the carriage, trying to work out Elain’s comment for herself, when her thoughts were interrupted by her sister’s eyes widening, though she attempted to stifle her reaction due to their conversation. Nesta gave an annoyed reaction to Elain, and she waved her arms in an apology.

“I’m sorry! You just...apparently had an effect on Cassian.”

“What...kind of effect?”

Elain flashed her a smile. “He apparently fell off the couch and landed on his face. Lucien sent me an image.”

Despite herself, she smiled at the happiness on her sister’s face. She supposed she didn’t need to stress herself about the issue right now. In fact... 

“Hey Elain, switch seats with me.” Her sister looked at her, then shrugged. “Look out the window; I want you to see this.” Elain pushed her face against the glass, and even though Nesta couldn’t see her sister’s face, she knew that her eyes were widening at the sight of the lake in front of them, that Lucien likely got to see the same image.

She reminded herself to have a personal chat with Lucien when they got back, and, despite hesitation on her part, sent a taunt down her own bond to Cassian for sparking this.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Both of you, stop it, or I will banish you both back to Velaris, do you understand me?” Feyre seethed at Lucien and Cassian as Rhys and she tried to forcefully separate them. 

Cassian sneered at Lucien as Rhys grabbed his arms and yanked him upward onto his feet. If he had wanted to do actual damage, Lucien wouldn’t be standing right now. As it was, he only inflicted minor bruises and cuts that would heal shortly, but would remind the man not to screw with him in the future. After a sharp, likely unintentional pulse from Nesta across the mating bond, he had been woken up and fallen off the couch, only to be met with yet another snide comment from Lucien. Whether it was the exhaustion, the lingering frustration from and worry about Nesta, or just his plain dislike of Lucien was irrelevant; he had immediately jumped the man. Though...he supposed he respected Lucien for at least trying in the fight, knowing that Cassian could have killed him in seconds had he wanted to, although it didn’t make him like the male any more.

“I want a verbal yes from both of you. There will be no fighting, no arguing, no nothing, or so help me I will personally neuter both of you. Do you understand me?” A sharp look his way first, and he rolled his eyes and nodded. Her glare intensified.

“Fine.” She held his gaze, then swung it to Lucien’s. He felt Rhys tug on his arms from behind as a warning.

“Alright.”

“Good. Believe me, we are _all_ tense right now, and we don’t need you two escalating things further.”

His arms finally got released by Rhys, and he stretched out his muscles, making sure he hadn’t pulled anything while fighting.

“If it helps...” Lucien began, and Feyre gave him an expectant look that promised an unfortunate outcome if his comments weren’t pertinent. “...Elain is finally awake.” Feyre straightened her back in anticipation.

“What has she told you?”

Lucien looked back and forth between Rhys and her nervously. “She’s safe, but I’m not sure what she’s going to be willing to tell me, considering she’ll expect you to have found out by now. I can try, though.” Feyre moved her hands to signal she was fine with whatever effort he made, and he sighed, closing his eyes as he leaned against a wall.

Meanwhile, Cassian froze, Lucien’s comments thankfully drawing the attention of both of the other inhabitants of the manor. Nesta had sent him another, more typical ripple down the bond, and he didn’t know how to respond to it. Did she want him communicating with her? If so, why give him the letter in the first place? Did she just want to work on it herself, without him responding? Were these ripples unintentional?

“Cassian.” He looked up at Feyre, and he realized all three of them were staring at him. “Are you able to contact Nesta?” He made pleading eye contact with Rhys, then turned back to Feyre.

“I don’t think it would have much effect; we don’t have the bond strength that Lucien and Elain do.”

Feyre opened her mouth to speak again, though she closed it as her eyes darted to her mate’s. He recognized the familiar, silent discussion happening between them and turned to Lucien.

“Things go poorly for you, I take it?” Lucien looked at him annoyed, Cassian assumed still about their fight.

“Let’s just say Elain knows how to get me to stop inquiring.”

Cassian sighed. He knew as long as Elain was intent on going to the Capitol, Nesta would cross hell and high water to follow her. Feyre was right; they probably just would have to wait this whole thing out.

“Lucien.” Feyre spoke again as her conversation ended with Rhys, whose eyes met Cassian in a silent acknowledgment. “Can you at least ask her what time she’ll arrive there?”

“Uhhh...” Lucien’s eyes darted around the room, and Cassian noticed they settled on an old timepiece decorating one of the walls. After a brief pause, he spoke again. “She says, emphatically, no.”

Feyre groaned. “Well...the Capitol is a little less than a day’s ride from here, and there was only about an hour and a half gap between the last time I saw them and when Rhys contacted me asking how we were doing...” She did some calculations in her head. “They’ll probably arrive in about ten to twelve hours. Until then–” She motioned towards the dining room. “–we figure out any possible game plan if needed.”

As Cassian followed his High Lord and High Lady into the dining room, he swore he could still feel the ripple’s echo, haunting him.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Elain...how much was this place?” Nesta hissed as quietly as she could at Elain, who merely gave her a disdainful look in return. Their bags had been carried for them by concierges up countless flights of stairs, and the building looked more like it fit in Prythian than the Mortal Lands.

“You can’t _honestly_ expect me to stay in some shabby lodge, Nesta.” Elain’s voice came out different now: prim, snooty, and practiced. Nesta’s eyes widened. “This place was worth every last piece of gold I spent for it.” She looked sharply back at Nesta as they arrived at their room, their penthouse room. Elain’s features shifted back to looking bored as the concierges opened their room for them and carried in their bags. One turned to them with a deep bow.

“Would you like help unpacking, misses?”

“I would think not! It would be far too unseemly for a male to be trifling through a woman’s possessions, don’t you think?” Elain’s scorn heated the man’s face, and he bowed again.

“Yes, of course, miss. My apologies. If you need anything, we will be at the front desk.” In an embarrassed hurry, he left the room with the rest of the concierges, the last one leaving the room key on the desk next to the door in the process. As the door shut behind them, Elain turned to Nesta with a wicked smile. “You didn’t think I wouldn’t have fun while we were here, did you? Besides, we need to get our old friends’ attention somehow.”

“I think you’re having a little bit _too_ much fun, Elain.” Nesta sighed as she hung up her outerwear in the suite’s walk-in closet, before walking over to the balcony. “We still have a few hours to kill before we sleep.”

“Right. Which we should spend discussing our plans for tomorrow.” Nesta looked back at her sister. “We only have one day – we can’t risk squandering it.” Elain sat on one of the couches in the room, opening her luggage on the coffee table in front of her to begin unpacking as she continued talking. “Also, I put four vials of the potion in the bag compartment where you stored the one Feyre gave you. You’ll need to take one right before you sleep and one as soon as you wake up, since it wears off faster for you. Okay?”

“The one Feyre gave me...?” Nesta clouded her face in confusion. The vial Feyre had given her was still in her... Her face suddenly lit up a deep red in understanding, though she tried to hide it by moving swiftly to her bag. Elain cut her movement off, as her effort at inconspicuousness failed miserably.

“What?” Elain studied her, suddenly suspicious.

“It’s nothing. I was just going to unpack.” She moved to reach her bag, but Elain blocked her path again. Elain scanned her eyes back and forth between Nesta and Nesta’s bag, then grabbed the bag herself and carried it over to the bed. “Elain–” She watched helplessly as Elain dumped the contents of her side pouch carefully onto the velvet bedspread, each vial sliding out one by one. Nesta covered her face with one of her gloved hands as Elain picked up the one thing Nesta hadn’t wanted her to see. Another larger, wicked smile lit up Elain’s face.

“ _Contraceptive tonic?_ ” Nesta’s face still burned, but she tried to move her eyes in the general direction of her sister, although she didn’t dare make eye contact.

“Amren gave it to me, in case...” Nesta struggled with her words, still mortified. “You know. Back when I was still trying to help Cassian heal his wings.”

“His _wings_ , huh?” Elain giggled and winked at Nesta, whose face reddened even further. She wished she could just disappear from the room. “You shouldn’t be so embarrassed, you know. I don’t seem to remember you giving Feyre any kind of slack with Isaac.”

Nesta rolled her eyes and groaned as she finally matched gazes with her sister, who was lazily repacking the medicine pouch of her bag. “Isaac didn’t mean anything to Feyre, though.”

“And Cassian does to you? Here I was, thinking it was 'just the mating bond.’” Elain’s eyes shone at hers, and Nesta ruffled at the challenge.

“That’s not fair.”

“On the contrary, I think...” Elain’s smile disappeared as she blinked twice in thought, then set the vial she was holding down on the bed and stood up. “Wait.” Another blink. “You _slept with him_... _then_ ignored him?”

The flustered flare of heat hit Nesta’s face again, and she stiffened in a defensive position. Elain almost never got upset like this. “It wasn’t right after...and I didn’t ignore him entirely. I left him a note, before we left for the Mortal Lands, letting him know it would be a week.”

Elain opened her mouth to immediately reply, but she pulled back her words, taking a few deep breaths to calm herself, before she broke eye contact with Nesta and disappeared into their bathroom, finally speaking in a rapid voice that rose in pitch over time. “He is probably going crazy right now, Nesta, just so you know. It’s okay to need space, but he deserves to know what’s wrong, at the very least.” There was a brief silence, then her head popped out of the bathroom. “But maybe that’s just my opinion as a nosy sister. I’m going to take a bath.” The bathroom door shut solidly behind her as she disappeared from view, and Nesta quickly heard the water start running.

She swallowed and sat down on the couch, stung by Elain’s unusual criticism. Her eyes lingered on her bag, still lying open on top of the bedspread, for a few moments, before she turned and walked onto the balcony to try and get some air. But, try as she might, she could not escape her sister’s words in the cool, evening breeze.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Nesta sighed as she drained her own bath, the heat of the water long since dissipated. She normally bathed in the mornings, but she still wasn’t ready to face Elain’s lambasting. As she dried her body, she stared at herself in the bathroom’s large, silver mirror. Did Elain have a point? That question had been driving her crazy for the last hour and a half. Perhaps she could’ve been more explicit in her letter, but she knew there was no way she would’ve been able to discuss it in person without risking the mating bond leading her into doing something...stupid.

She slipped on her nightgown and began to brush her hair. No. She reassured herself that she couldn’t have done much differently. Besides, her choices always worked out in the end; he had to know that, right? He’d be fine in the meantime.

_You could have told me this beforehand._

She dropped her brush, clattering, on the bathroom sink at the flashback shooting through her mind, before staring at it in contemplation. His words didn’t apply here. He was talking about her dying, of all things, not something much more minor like this.

_You would’ve stopped me._

_Of course I would._

She hung her head. No...Elain was right. Just as with his wings, she was doing nothing more than making decisions that involved him without consulting him, fearful he would convince her otherwise. That...wasn’t fair to him. She choked back a sardonic laugh at the thought that she was doing to Cassian the very thing she constantly got angry at Feyre for doing to her. She eyed the door in her peripheral vision, nerves engaging her again at seeing her sister. It took her several deep breaths to gather the courage to turn the doorknob, swinging the door open and preparing to talk things out with Elain.

Instead, Nesta found her laying on the bed, back faced towards her, still. Had she gone to sleep? She looked at the bags, neatly put away on the dark oak desk in their room. They still needed to plan for the next day, even if Elain didn’t want to talk about earlier. She walked over to the bed, attempting to put her hand on her sister to wake her up.

“I’m awake.” Elain’s voice came out choked, and Nesta paused, as she realized what was going on.

“Elain...”

“What?” Elain spun her head towards Nesta, tears still falling down her face. Nesta cringed a bit, upset that their conversation had done this to her sister, but laid down beside her and pulled her into a hug. She felt her sister’s body tense, before Elain hugged her back.

“Don’t be upset. You were right. I should have been more upfront with him.”

“Maybe, but–” Elain pulled away from the hug enough to make eye contact with Nesta. “–I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that. You’re my sister.”

“Not maybe. Yes, you were right. And you’re my sister.” She flashed a smirk at Elain, who wiped at her eyes. “That means you have permission from me to yell at me like that when I’m being dumb, okay? Besides, it’s like...your duty. Anyone else’s words I would just ignore.”

“ _Ignore?_ ” Elain gasped out in incredulity, before a smile finally broke through her lips. “Like how you _ignored_ Cresseida, or Morrigan, or Fey–”

“Okay, okay, I get it.” Nesta rolled her eyes, then shifted over and propped her back against the pillows. “Now sit up. We can talk about this on the carriage ride back if you want. For now, we need to discuss tomorrow’s plan, since you’ve clearly already got everything all figured out.” She gestured at the amount of space in their room, and Elain laughed as she turned onto her stomach, propping her chin up with her hands.

“Alright.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It took several hours for them to talk out their planned movements through town for the next day, and by the time they were done, both sisters were exhausted. Elain had just closed her eyes for the night, a peaceful smile on her face, when Nesta had a sudden thought.

“Hey.”

Elain half-opened her eyes as she let out a murmur. “Yes?”

“What did you send Lucien tonight?” Elain blinked. “Like, you try to find something to send him an image of before you sleep, right?”

“Oh, that.” Elain closed her eyes again. “I was boring tonight, so I just sent him a picture of our bathroom mirror, so he could see I was safe...and be jealous of our room.” She stuck out her tongue. “Good night.”

“How do you do it?”

Elain groaned and turned into her pillow, her voice muffled. “Nesta, that would take me far too long to teach you. Now let me sleeeeeeep.” Elain turned her back on Nesta as she dragged the final word in emphasis, and Nesta scrunched her face in frustration. She sat up in the bed, scanning the room for something to try with. Her eyes settled on the balcony door, and an idea popped into her head. Maybe she couldn’t talk to him right now this far away, but she could try to tell him _something_...

She opened the balcony doors and stepped onto the large patio, shivering at the night chill breezing right through her thin nightgown. She gripped the railing and looked out over the city. Elain had really gone all-out with this room; their view was expansive, covering almost every major district of the city, from the markets to the ports to the Capitol building itself. She tried to get as much of the city in her vision as possible. She knew how to send vibrations down the mating bond, so maybe... She squinted her eyes, trying not to obscure the view, then tried to connect her eyes to the bond itself.

Nothing happened.

She silently cursed, shutting her eyes to relax them, then opened them to try again. This would’ve been so much easier if she had just asked Elain how to do it when they were in the Summer Court...

The Summer Court. Her eyes darted as she tried to remember how she had accessed Cassian’s sight there. Maybe it wouldn’t be the same way Elain sent hers, but if she could see through Cassian’s eyes, then maybe, just maybe she could let him see through hers. She tried to settle her mind on a memory of them, the one she had of them dancing in Velaris together, glad she finally had a happy memory to latch onto now, and tried to concentrate. She looked out on the city skyline, thinking of how he had looked at her that night, over hours of their alone time in the club...

...and found herself looking at Feyre, Lucien, and Rhys at the manor dining table. She smiled and brought herself right back. She felt him panic, then realized she had sent him her view of the city _while leaning over the railing of the penthouse of a ten-story building_. Oops. She smiled, however, as she mused that perhaps the danger of the view complemented them, just as the tranquility of the image Elain had sent did for her and Lucien.

She stayed there, looking out over the skyline, for a few minutes more, before retiring with her sister.


	18. Chapter 18

Cassian gasped in air, bracing his hands on the table in front of him. His wings automatically extended behind him, knocking the chair out from beneath his seat. Stumbling, he caught his balance, then looked up to see Lucien, Rhys, and Feyre gaping at him.

“There a problem, Cassian?”

Rhys’s eyes shone with a deep concern, but Cassian was still reeling from what he just witnessed. Due to the initial change in his vision, he had thought he was free falling, somehow winnowed over whatever city he had just seen. But, he had been sent back here immediately afterward, and he’d realized it’d just been an image sent to him by Nesta, though his flying instincts had still kicked in. He took a deep breath, then looked back at Rhys, panting out a reply.

“No, I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine.” Cassian glared at Lucien, who was crossing his arms calmly, the only one at the table who didn’t look panicked. Cassian supposed that Lucien was aware of Elain’s safety, and that the man didn’t care much past that.

“I probably dozed off; it’s nothing. I should probably get some sleep, while I can.” He moved to get up, but Rhys stood up quicker, narrowing his eyes.

“Cassian, there is only so much leeway I am going to let you slide with over your issues with Nesta. You clearly look distraught; are they alright?” Cassian exchanged looks with Rhys and Feyre, who was scowling with a fierce darkness towards him, then sighed in defeat. 

“Do you think he’d be sitting there like everything’s fine in the world if the two of them were in danger?” He nodded sharply towards Lucien, which cooled the reactions of his High Lord and High Lady somewhat, though Rhys still looked expectantly at him. “Fine. I was sent an image of the city they’re in. She’s safe; I would know otherwise. As, again, _would he_.” He nodded at Lucien again. Feyre looked at him, skepticism coloring her face.

“You acted like you were in mortal peril over...an image of the Capitol?”

Cassian rolled his eyes, his body finally relaxing enough for him to retract his wings. “She...found a rather creative way to show it.”

Feyre clicked her tongue in deep thought. “Hm. This does give us an additional option now, though. You could winnow in and provide backup for them from afar, potentially, now that you’ve seen the layout of the Capitol. I could show you a map of where the city is, so you’d have an idea of the exact coordinates you would need to winnow to. Being fully-Illyrian, you look human enough, and you could winnow into the sky to avoid being seen, flying down wherever you need to go.”

“N–” Cassian caught his impulsive rejection, swallowing it down in response to the fire on Feyre’s face. “I’d rather not.” He shifted his eyes back and forth between Rhys and her. “She doesn’t want to see me right now.”

“For Cauldron’s sake, Cassian, this isn’t a time for you two’s ridiculousness!” Feyre stood up, stress lining her features. “My sisters are in danger, and we can use any advantage we can get to help protect them!”

“I have to say, Cassian, I agree with Feyre. This is a really serious situation, and we have no eyes and ears on them, outside snippets they choose to send you and Lucien.” Rhys softened his eyes towards Cassian, but his tone was infused with his authority as High Lord. Cassian looked at them, strained, and spoke quietly.

“Don’t make me choose between the requests of my mate and those of my High Lord & Lady.” His eyes dipped and closed, and his voice faded further. “Please.” He didn’t dare open his eyes as his chest pulled at him, hoping they would respect Nesta’s wishes. He heard shifting around the table for a few minutes, before Feyre responded softly.

“...fine. But if there’s any indication she’s in danger, _any at all_ , I reserve the right to revisit this.” He lifted his eyes towards her stern gaze and nodded in silent appreciation. She glanced at the timepiece on the wall. “In the meantime, I suggest we all take your original idea and get some rest.”

As the table cleared around him, Cassian stayed in his seat, staring through the window across from him and hoping that the choice would never need to be made.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Nesta’s stomach swirled at the thought of the day ahead, as they neared the base of the hotel stairwell. She had jumped into the mission with little hesitation, but now that she was actually faced with the prospect of what she had to do, her brain was taunting her with second-guessing and morbid what-if situations. She took a glance at Elain, who wore her chin up in as snooty a measure as Nesta had ever seen from her sister. She sighed, knowing that once they reached the doorway to the hotel lobby, she would have to keep an attitude of her own at the forefront at all times.

“Nesta, please try not to look so gloomy; it makes you look undignified.” Elain turned her head ever so slightly with the remark as she reached the first floor, and a brief moment of compassion met Nesta from deep within her sister’s eyes, before they shifted to an expression of stern warning. Nesta nodded, taking a deep breath, then steeled her own eyes into a bored, unimpressed dullness, knowing their partially-grey color would help accentuate the look.

“Of course, Elain, I just wish we could’ve stayed somewhere a bit...” She placed her hand on the door handle in front of her, turning back to her sister. “...more upscale?” Flashing a quick smirk, she pushed on the handle, resuming her flat expression as she swung it out into the lobby.

Elain and she were met with a busy madness of travelers and dignitaries, who were swirling around with little notice to their entrance. Nodding at her, Elain passed through the doorway, heading towards the entrance, Nesta quickly on her heels, ready to start their plan.

“...Elain? Elain Archeron?” Nesta froze in place, though she had the presence of mind to try to make it look natural. She turned her head, in synchronized movement with her sister, towards the source of the sound, and adrenaline flowed through her blood at their early luck. Running towards them was an old friend of theirs, from their former state of wealth. Nesta stretched her brain for the girl’s name, though it escaped the tip of her tongue. Christina perhaps, or maybe it was Carol…

“Clarissa!” Of course Elain would remember. Nesta’s eyes shone in impressed awe at her sister, though she made sure not to reveal it on her face, as she scanned the girl, seemingly analyzing her outfit for the slightest slip. Elain hugged Clarissa, then kept her hands on the girl’s arms as she pulled away. “How have you been?”

“Well! Well...as well as one can be, I suppose, considering we had to stay... _here_.” The disgust plainly shown on the girl’s face reviled Nesta to her core, but she stayed patient, letting Elain handle the socialities. “And to top it off, someone bought out the penthouse last night!”

“ _I know_.” Elain scoffed in indignation at the supposed inconvenience. “But what can we do, with everyone renting out the nicer hotels in response to this mad rush on the Capitol?”

“True.” The girl glanced at Nesta finally, looking her over in some deep thought process, before turning back to Elain. “Speaking of which...there’s a party tonight over at the Centurion. I’d love to see you there, and we can talk more without these unseemly politicians–” Her look of repugnance returned as she tilted her head towards the bulk of the lobby. “–lurking around. I suppose _you_ can come too, Nesta.” She flashed her eyes at Nesta, who narrowed her eyes back instinctually. “But do try to behave yourself. We all know how... _brash_ you can be.”

“She’ll be fine.” Elain quickly cut in, interrupting Nesta’s incoming retort, and smiled at Clarissa, who resumed eye contact. “We’d love to attend.”

“Clarissa!” All three girls’ attentions turned to the man at the front counter, who was studying them carefully. Clarissa spun back to them gracefully.

“I have to go; my father is calling me. Party starts at 5! Don’t be late; it’s bad manners.” Elain and she hugged again, and she gave a mocking wink of dismissal to Nesta before turning on her heels and walking towards the concierge desk. Nesta moved alongside Elain and spoke under her breath.

“I really hate that girl.”

Elain merely twirled in front of her, giving her a cautionary look to keep her cool, before walking towards the front door and the resumption of their mission. Nesta sighed, reluctantly following.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Nesta twisted her face in annoyance. Their day in the market had largely been a wash, and the sun was dipping in the western sky, meaning they would have to get prepared for the party soon. To top it all off, Elain had produced a staggeringly large amount of coin for Nesta and told her to spend all of it while asking about the mercenary, which just felt... _wasteful_. She was already arms deep in bags, and she still had some gold left over. She took a glance across the market at Elain, busily chatting up some interested vendor, and shook her head at her misfortune. She hoped Elain had done at least a little better than her.

“Can I help you, Miss?”

Nesta quickly swiveled her head toward the voice addressing her and found a young girl, sitting behind a small wooden booth in front of where she had wandered. Assorted sweets lined the tabletop of her stall. Her heart broke at the state the girl was in; her clothes were of a nice material, but looked extremely aged – almost assuredly hand-me-downs. Her crooked teeth flashed through her smile, clearly uncared for. Flashes of their lives in the old cabin shot through her mind. She couldn’t imagine this girl could afford to live in the Capitol.

“Are you from near here?”

The girl blinked in surprise at the question, then shook her head. “We’re from a small village, a few hours ride from the East.”

“We?” Nesta asked gently. The girl sat back, scanning for other customers, before deciding this conversation wasn’t getting in the way of her sales, then nodded a few booths over at a girl, around Nesta’s age and similarly-dressed as the young girl, selling jewelry.

“That’s my older sister. Our parents died a few years ago, so she’s been taking care of me by buying gems and making jewelry out of them. The profit isn’t a whole lot, so I had hoped that I might be able to make us some extra money with my baking skills, but...” She shifted in her seat uncomfortably and nodded across the marketplace at the people crowded around a baker, whose stand was elaborate enough for Nesta to assume he was likely a wealthy Capitol resident. “...people have largely wanted his wares instead.” Her eyes shot open, then she turned to Nesta, rapidly speaking. “I’m sorry; I shouldn’t be boring you with such things.”

“No, no...it’s quite alright.” Nesta scanned the products; some of them were clearly undercooked, but a few of them looked like the girl had baked them well. She picked up a few premade dessert boxes. “How much for these?”

“20 coppers!” The girl’s smile picked up again as she began to wrap the items for her. Nesta felt her pocket, then looked back at the horizon. She picked up about half the coins and dumped them in front of the young girl, whose smile dropped in disbelief. “Miss...”

“I’m negotiating. I want to buy them for this.”

“Miss, I can’t...” The girl’s face reddened, and she swallowed. “You’re overpaying a thousandfold. My...my entire booth isn’t worth anywhere near that much.”

“This is what I’m offering. You can take it or leave it.” Nesta’s eyes softened towards the girl, but she remained firm. The girl’s eyes shifted to the bag she had prepared for Nesta, then back to the gold.

“Th..thank you.” She picked up the bag and handed it to Nesta, who wrapped it inside another one of her bags. She was about to leave, then turned back in one last, desperate attempt of Elain’s plan.

“By the way–” She looked at the girl, whose eyes swiftly met hers. “–you wouldn’t happen to have heard of a mercenary specializing in high-end wares, like wolf pelt?” She gave a detailed description of the mercenary. The girl shook her head.

“No, I’m sorry.”

Nesta smiled back. “No problem. Thank you for the sweets!” She turned and walked away, the girl still looking stunned as she rounded out the gold, trying to tie it into her bag without attracting attention.

Before meeting up with Elain, Nesta bought out the jeweler, dumping the rest of her coin purse to the girl’s shock and, subsequently, taking her leave before the girl could object.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“It can’t be helped that the traders didn’t have information for us.” Elain spoke in their penthouse bathroom alongside Nesta, as they finished preparing for the party ahead. Elain had brought plenty of cosmetics from the house, thankfully, in advance of any situation they might encounter in the Capitol. “We still have the chance to learn something tonight at the party. Worst-case scenario, we confirmed this lead is a dead-end and saved precious time that would’ve been wasted under Feyre’s plan.”

Nesta nodded in acknowledgment. “You’re a lifesaver, by the way.” Elain looked at her with a smile, then turned back to the mirror. “You really work magic with people.” Elain shrugged.

“We all have our talents, Nesta. Feyre is resourceful and stealthy; you’re powerful and determined. All I am is chatty, when you boil it down.” She winked at Nesta to make clear she wasn’t putting herself down. “It just so happens that my particular skill is _very_ useful in this situation.”

Nesta laughed and finished putting away her makeup. “You ready for the party?”

Elain put away her own cosmetics and took a deep breath. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Then let’s go.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Nesta gasped when Elain led her to the Centurion building, a large hotel and reception hall next to the Capitol. The white marble and glass exterior, supported by beautiful, curved steel bars, caused it to stand out amongst the city, dwarfing even the Capitol building itself. If she hadn’t seen the insides of two Court Palaces personally, she would’ve believed no building could’ve been constructed in a more gorgeous manner.

Security stopped them as they attempted to enter the building, and Elain smiled towards them. “We’re attending the party tonight. We didn’t bring any bags.” The guards looked them over, then nodded and stepped away, motioning towards the doors. Nesta widened her eyes as they walked past, through the large double doors of the building, and she released her held breath. She’d never been anywhere this secure, even at the height of their affluence.

They entered the Centurion ballroom right at 5, and the busy scene inside led Nesta’s mind to flash back to her younger days. Despite the excesses of the building exterior, the party was more reminiscent of what she remembered from her early youth. Many people were visibly and heavily intoxicated; important figures were huddled at corner tables, discussing some sort of business; and several groups of girls were clustered, busy gossiping about each other. Had she really...enjoyed this at one point? The two of them soon made eye contact with Clarissa, and she waved them over to her circle of girls a short ways away. They made to head towards her.

Until Nesta stopped in place, her eyes locked across the room at an unwelcome sight.

Mr. Mandray.

Her body tensed up immediately, and the surrounding sound in the room drowned out. How was he here? This was the Capitol, and he was...

A hand touched her arm, and she spun in panic, only to find Elain looking at her in concern. She subtly shook her head.

“I need to use the powder room. I’ll meet up with you and Clarissa soon.” Before Elain could respond, she cleared her way across the floor as quickly as she could manage, shutting herself in the ladies’ room and leaning against one of the walls. She took a peek in the mirror: she looked completely awful. She just hoped she hadn’t completely thrown off their mission, though she knew Elain wouldn’t blame her if she knew the reason. Either way, she needed to calm her nerves; she wouldn’t be able to hide in here for the entire party. She closed her eyes and took several deep breaths, finally allowing herself to move to the mirror and begin to try to soothe herself. She could do this; she just needed time to prep. She gripped the marble counter, staring into her eyes, speaking out loud to herself.

“Come on, Nesta. This isn’t the moment to panic. Elain is out there, and you need to be there, helping her. Maybe he isn’t even here.” She let out another deep breath, closing her eyes. When she reopened them, she forced a nod at herself in the mirror, her anxiety placated enough for her to start to fix her hair, when she noticed where her hand had been on the counter.

The marble was singed.

She looked at her hand and the fire dissipating from it and, to her horror, realized her power was causing the tonic to wear off rapidly, as her hand was flickering back and forth between her Fae self and human image. She reached for her bag and closed her eyes again, trying to breathe steadily, despite her realization.

_She had left her bag in the penthouse due to security._

Oh gods, why was _this_ happening to her right now? She needed to think of something fast; she certainly couldn’t go back out like this. She was going to blow the whole mission, she was going to put her and Elain in danger…

The fire started building in her hands again, and she brushed it off quickly. No, she couldn’t panic again. She had to think of something. For Elain’s sake. For her own sake. For Feyre’s sake. For...her eyes lit open.

_Feyre._

She fumbled with her dress, fishing out Feyre’s emergency vial that she had stuffed in her bra every morning since it had been given to her, just in case of a catastrophe exactly like this one. She pulled the stopper out and downed the liquid quickly, relishing the warmth as it went down her throat.

“Well, well.”

Nesta spun on her heels towards the door and saw Clarissa standing in the doorway, hand still perched on the door. She sucked in her breath. When had Clarissa come in? Had she seen anything? Nesta took a brief glance at the reflection of her hand in the mirror, thankful to see it had at least gone back to normal.

“On tonic, I see. So Nesta Archeron finally finds a man willing to bed her.” Clarissa walked fully into the restroom, letting the door shut behind her, and stopped at the sink next to Nesta, fishing in her bag for her lipstick. Nesta let out an undetectable sigh at Clarissa’s misunderstanding of the vial, even as the girl’s words awakened a familiar irritation inside her, then pushed the empty container back into her bra. She quickly finished fixing her hair, then moved to leave and ignore the girl, but Clarissa locked eyes with her, causing her to stop in place. “And here I was, thinking you must be into women.”

“You say that like it’s an insult.” Nesta narrowed her eyes at the girl, who merely gave a snide look that confirmed that her interpretation was exactly how her comment was intended, before turning back to the mirror to apply her lipstick. Nesta’s blood boiled further. Sensing her reaction, Clarissa rolled the stick back, sealing and putting it away, and turned back to Nesta to continue.

“I guess I should be pleased, in a way. At least you provide the girls out there hope, if you can find a male willing to put up with you.”

“Listen, you little...” Nesta’s rage led her to seethe before she could stop herself. The girl’s eyes shone in amusement in response. _Elain_. _Elain_. _Elain_. She took a breath, remembering that her sister was still out there and that she couldn’t risk having another incident with her magic, and turned away from Clarissa. “You’re not worth it.”

She was halfway to the door when the girl spoke up again. “Tailor’s son? Maybe a baker? Or...am I’m guessing too high-class?” Nesta spun around with her hand on the door handle, meeting the girl’s smug look with a fierce one of her own.

“Soldier. _Very_ high-ranking.”

She walked out of the restroom before Clarissa could get another word out. A fleeting thought crossed her mind that perhaps, of the two, humans might be the crueler race, after all.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Cassian groaned, as he found himself picked off the floor by Rhys and Feyre, both of whom were speaking to him, trying to get a response. He had been in the middle of discussing front line strategies with them at the table to kill time, when an intense sense of anxiety had filled his core. It had taken his entire ability of self-control in order to try to manage it, though he had tried not to push it away, realizing it was likely coming from Nesta and not wanting to send it back her way.

“Cass. Talk to me. What’s going on?” He turned to Rhys, whose eyes were full of alarm.

“I’m not...” He closed his eyes as another wave of anxiety hit him and his legs gave out under him, Rhys and Feyre struggling to hold him up. Rhys spun a chair over with his leg, pushing it underneath Cassian, and they sat him down. The second wave subsided, and he opened his eyes in relief. “I don’t know. She’s really upset about something.”

Lucien shifted in place, having stood up but not moving over to help, perhaps in remembrance of their fight the previous day. “Elain feels calm.” Cassian glared harshly at him, some muscle tension still lingering, and snapped.

“Well, that’s great for you, isn’t it, Lucien?”

Lucien narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms in annoyance. “I’m just saying they’re not in danger unless they’ve split up.”

“Cassian.” Feyre spun around to his front, and sat down next to him. “You need to check on her.”

“There’s no point of me winnowing in, if her anxiety is going to cripple me. We’d both be sitting ducks.”

Feyre exchanged glances with her mate. “What about through the bond?”

He gritted his teeth. “Our bond isn’t developed enough for that. I doubt she even realizes she’s letting me feel this.”

Feyre looked up at Rhys, who was communicating with her mentally. Cassian waited out their conversation, trying to steady his breathing. Feyre exhaled in frustration. “Cauldron, if it’s _that_ bad, Rhys...”

Cassian raised an eyebrow in question, but Rhys shook his head. “Let's just say that Feyre and I went through the same process. It’ll be better when you guys get an opportunity to work on controlling the bond.”

“We need a plan for right now, though.” Feyre turned back to Cassian. “How’s she doing now?”

Cassian shrugged. “It’s all-or-nothing with her. Either I feel her amplified a hundred times, or I don’t feel her at all. She’s presumably not as upset anymore.” He gave an exasperated look to both her and Rhys, though his eyes stopped on Rhys. “You could check on her. Then, I wouldn’t be contacting her, and we could at least know what’s going on.”

“Cassian, I can’t just communicate telepathically with anyone on the planet at any time.” Rhys raised his eyebrow in doubt.

“I meant through my bond.” Rhys stepped back in shock.

“Cassian, I won’t–”

“It’s one time, Rhys. And I’m giving you permission to do it; it’s not like you’re seizing my mind against my will.” Feyre and Lucien’s confused looks quickly honed into understanding, but Cassian remained focused on Rhys. “Rhys, just do it.” Rhys stared back at Cassian to gauge his determination, then reluctantly sighed and gave in.

“Alright.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 _Nesta_.

Nesta, heading towards the group of girls Elain was now talking to, almost tripped in place as she sharply looked around for the source of the voice calling for her. It took her a second to realize no one else had heard it.

... _Cassian?_

_This is Rhys. But I’m speaking to you through his mating bond using my own powers to enhance it, so he is aware of the conversation. I’m checking on you._

She sighed and began walking again.

_I’m fine. Why?_

_You about took out–_

The message cut off as she felt her bond stir, then Rhys resumed again.

_Sorry, we just had reason to believe you were in trouble. Do you need someone to drop in?_

Her eyes fell back on the spot where Mr. Mandray had been standing moments earlier, then back to Elain, who she had almost reached, then around the busy room. If anyone tried to winnow now...it was too risky.

_I’ll be okay. Too dangerous for you. Check back in a few hours if you must._

_Very well. Stay safe._

She felt the connection drop just as she reached Elain, who smiled at her and pulled her into the clique of girls she was chatting with.

“This is my sister, Nesta. Some of you may remember her?” A murmur of girls responded in the affirmative, and a few even hugged her, to her surprise, as she barely remembered the few faces who triggered any sense of memory. Elain turned to her. “We were just talking about some of the other guests.” _Big surprise_ , Nesta thought. Though, it _did_ give her an idea...

“Speaking of which...” Nesta swiftly broke into the conversation, to Elain’s surprise. “...how in the world did _he_ get in here?” She nodded subtly at Mr. Mandray, now speaking to some businessmen in the corner. “He’s a _woodcutter_ , of all occupations.” She felt more than saw Elain’s questioning glance in the corner of her eye as some of the other girls tried to peek views of who she was talking about. One of them, a shorter brunette next to her, spoke up.

“You know, I was just talking about that with one of my friends. He apparently knows someone in the port authority, and so he’s been riding the guy’s coattails the entire way here. Very improper, in my opinion.” A lot of nods came from the group, including from Nesta herself. “Had to leave his son behind though.” Her body finally relaxed in solace that she wouldn’t have to face him, though she pushed as hard as she could to keep it internal. “Although...if I were him, I wouldn’t show my face for the next ten years. Apparently he was dumped by a _village girl_.” 

She laughed loudly, and Nesta turned her head over her shoulder for a moment as her cheeks burned against her will. She didn’t know whether to be mad about the condescension or revel in some sort of retributive comfort that karma had taken _some_ toll on him. She settled on neither, not willing to fail the mission nor lower her anger at him in any way.

“...Nesta?”

She turned back around, cheeks back to normal enough to be hidden by her blush, and shook her head at the blond girl who had called her name. If only she could remember their names years later the way Elain could. “My apologies; I thought I heard someone say my name.”

“I see you found your way here.” Clarissa squeezed in between Elain and her to her dismay, though it at least corroborated her statement. She turned to Elain. “You know, Elain, you didn’t tell me Nesta had a boyfriend. I had to pry it out of her myself.”

Elain blinked in surprise, but smiled instinctually. The other girls immediately locked into the conversation. “Yes! They’ve been dating for a little bit now. About...a few weeks or so now, right Nesta?”

Nesta swallowed. She did _not_ want to be talking about Cassian here, not with these people. But as she saw Elain’s eyes flash narrow and back in an instant, imperceptible to the human eyes watching, she worked up her nerve. “Officially, yeah. Much longer, months, if you count from when we started getting really close.” She wasn’t sure his visit to the house actually counted as that, but for this purpose, every embellishment helped.

“What’s he look like?” Clarissa turned back to her, a smug look on her face, and, in that moment, Nesta lost all inhibition about talking about Cassian. If Clarissa wanted to try to catch her in a trap, Nesta would make her look like a damn fool.

So she talked, and talked...and talked. Until the girls were tired of hearing about the way his hazel eyes flashed alongside his grin when he was being an idiot, or the way the waves of his black hair fell around and complemented his face, or the fact he was a well-honed soldier, though she allowed them to imagine for themselves the muscles that corresponded. She told herself she did it for the plan, for the scowl Clarissa was unable to contain at the detail she was able to describe, but...a deep, feral part of her delighted in the jealousy hidden on some of the girls’ faces, though clearly detectable to her Fae eyes.

“Yes, well...congrats.” Clarissa’s speech stilted.

“On a different topic, Clarissa...” Elain broke in to Nesta’s relief, cutting through the tension between the two girls and absorbing the group’s attention. “...I was actually looking for a mercenary here. I was wondering if you could help me find her.” She described the woman from the village. “She had the most beautiful wolf pelt cloak I had ever seen, but by the time I got back to town, she’d disappeared. I stopped by the Capitol to see if I could find more information, hoping she’d come here with everyone else.”

Clarissa tightly pursed her lips and shook her head. “I’m sorry, Elain; I don’t believe I’ve heard of any such person. Though, if you would excuse me, I just remembered my father asked me to meet with him.” She turned on her heels without a dismissal, and Nesta felt an internal sense of moral victory erupt inside her, which even Elain’s glare couldn’t subside.

“That girl is so annoying.” Nesta’s attention snapped back towards the blond girl from before, who had begun speaking. “Why do we even let her in the group?”

“Her father is like...a second or third cousin of the Queen. It would be social suicide otherwise.” The brunette rolled her eyes, though Nesta noticed the way she watched to make sure Clarissa was out of earshot as she spoke. “Anyway, Elain, I haven’t heard anything either, but I’ll keep an ear out. Who knows? Maybe she has something I’d want, too, if _you’re_ interested.”

Elain nodded. “Yes, she had a quite unique inventory. It was a pleasant surprise, considering the typical traders that would pass through town. It’s not often you see clothing of that quality – well, without having to travel to one of the major cities, anyway.” She turned to Nesta and locked her arm with her sister’s. “Though, if you’ll excuse us, we’re going to sightsee around the Centurion. We haven’t been here since its grand opening, and we’re only in town for tonight.” She nodded at the other girls, tugging gently on Nesta’s arm, and Nesta politely nodded as well, mirroring Elain as she headed out of the room.

When they were out of the ballroom and far enough down the hallway to avoid being eavesdropped on, Elain turned an eye on Nesta. “I’m not mad, but you need to work on your emotional responses. She clearly deserved what you dealt her, but we have to concentrate on the plan right now. In 24 hours, she’ll be gone, but anything we learn here won’t be. Remember that.”

Nesta rolled her eyes at Elain, causing her sister to raise an eyebrow, but nodded. “ _Fine_. Just don’t ask me to be pleasant around that girl. She’s awful.”

Elain inhaled sharply in muted frustration, but rolled her eyes in reluctant assent, as they climbed a steep flight of stairs straddling one of the building’s curved pillars. As they reached the top, Nesta’s eyes widened and she pointed ahead.

“Elain, look...”

The stairs terminated in a large, open balcony, roughly the size of their manor’s dining room, surrounded by a chest-height guard rail made out of marble decorative pillars and steel supports. She walked towards the rail and pointed out into the distance, wind whisking through her hair, as she turned back to her sister, who stayed indoors, presumably to protect her hair and dress from ruffling.

“Elain, that’s our hotel! You can see the entire city from here, too. It’s so beautiful.” In fact, the height of the balcony was perfectly placed to provide a balance between being able to view the whole city and being able to discern what the city was up to. She wondered if the balcony was built for the purpose of reconnaissance on the citizens. It seemed too intentional to be coincidental.

“That’s nice, Nesta, but we have a job to do. I think we’ve spent enough time already to justify our departure.” Elain’s tone was strict, bringing Nesta’s attention away from her curious investigating of the various angles throughout the city the balcony offered, and she turned around.

“I actually have to talk to Rhys.” Elain’s eyebrow sharply rose, and Nesta quickly clarified. “He contacted me. I’ll be down soon.”

“Well, I’m _not_ leaving you up here alone...” Elain looked back down the stairs and sighed. “I’ll guard at the base and make sure no one else comes up. But be quick.” She flashed another serious glance at Nesta, then turned to go down the stairs. Nesta spun back to the railing, looking out on the city.

_Hey, Rhys._

Silence met her, and she thinned her eyes.

_Rhysssssss._

Still, nothing came back in return, and she sighed, only now recognizing this probably wouldn’t be as easy for her to initiate as Rhys. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, sending her entire energy down the bond.

_RHYS!_

She waited a few moments more, than sighed in surrender at her failed effort. She started walking towards the stairs.

_Nesta, what?! Is everything okay?_

_I was trying to reach you. If you want to talk, you can winnow where I am, but it will have to be short._

_...Give me a moment. Look around for now, and let me see the entire area._

She turned 360 degrees, moving her eyes up and down to encapsulate the whole area. She felt silly doing it, but she supposed he needed an exact spot to winnow into.

She felt them winnow behind her and flipped around, glimpsing Cassian winnow out as Rhys now stood in front of her, hiding in the shadows from the overhead torches. She frowned.

“Why did he come?”

Rhys tilted his head and raised an eyebrow. “My winnows are tracked, remember? Unless you _wanted_ the King of Hybern to hurry to your location posthaste.”

She grimaced, but closed most of the distance between them so they could speak in lower tones. She rubbed her hands against her arms, partly due to the evening chill starting to get to her and partly due to her embarrassment about the question she was about to ask. “How mad is she?”

Rhys let out a short laugh. “Believe me, you don’t want to know. It will just distract from your mission.” He looked at her, a hopeful expression on his face. “Any news?”

Her frown grew as she averted her eyes. “Unfortunately, no. But we’re doing our best. If someone knows of this woman here, it won’t be because we couldn’t find them.”

“Don’t worry.” She looked back up, but Rhys was staring off into the city. “Most missions aren’t successes in the strict sense of the word. Even if you don’t find the information, you’ll have given us a different set of information.”

Nesta nodded. “Elain said the same thing.”

Rhys smiled. “I see my services weren’t needed then.” He looked her over and turned soberer. “Are you two safe? Do you need anything?”

“We’re fine. We’ll be okay.” She delayed a moment, then continued. “When is Cassian coming back to get you?”

Rhys studied her for a moment. “Five minutes. Did you want to talk to him?”

“No.” Her quick response elicited a small pain in Rhys’s eyes, so she quickly followed up. “I mean, I’ll see him when I get back. I don’t want to waste time out here.” He nodded, but the suspicion in his eyes made her hesitate. She spoke quietly. “Is he doing okay?”

“...no, not really, to be honest, Nesta.” Her eyes plummeted to the floor. “Don’t feel guilty about it: if you need time, you need time. Just...be careful with him, please.”

She stayed quiet for awhile, still but for the fabric of her dress fluttering in the wind. Finally, she raised her eyes to his. “Rhys...can I ask you a question? A very personal question?”

Rhys leaned back as curiosity gradually crossed his face. “Of course, Nesta.”

“Did...” She sighed. “Did the mating bond ever feel... _forced_ to you?” His eyes widened in understanding of what she was asking him. “I mean, I don’t...” She gritted her teeth, not wanting to bring up bad memories for either of them. “I don’t mean it like that. I just...I hate feeling like I can’t choose Cassian, you know?”

Rhys’s expression shifted, full of compassion, and his voice came out with a strong undertone of assurance. “Your choice is still your own, Nesta. No matter what.” She scrunched her face, unsatisfied by his answer, and he sighed. “The relationships you have seen in Velaris are not representative of all mating bond relationships, nor would I describe them even as an example of a _majority_ of mating bond relationships. All a mating bond is is...a connection between someone and the person best suited for them. A connection they can choose to use or not use, that they can let amplify their existing love for each other or ignore. As far as anything else goes, the relationship is how any other relationship goes – each person must still work for the other. People who are bonded can still choose to take care of each other or be horrible to each other; the bond merely amplifies what they choose. Just because Feyre and I have a mating bond did not mean we must have ended up together, and indeed, we almost did not...though I am supremely glad that that scenario did not happen, for multiple reasons.” His eyes darkened, and Nesta tried to keep his mind off Tamlin with a further question, while she was digesting his words.

“Have you seen anyone ever reject a bond?” He looked up harshly, and she realized he thought she was referencing her own thinking. “Not for that reason, Rhys – just...in general.” He swallowed rigidly, but nodded.

“...a few times. Mostly, people choose to ignore it, allowing for the possibility of decades or centuries-long change that could make previously-unworkable relationships finally accessible. But...” He grimaced. “I have seen rejections. Three, in total, across a half-millenia.”

“Why?” His features turned grim in response to her question. He examined her expression carefully for a few seconds, then continued.

“One male was an alcoholic. It’s a very long story that I can’t tell in full right now, but, in short, he got into a drunken brawl with her brother and killed the other man. She rejected the bond on the spot.” Nesta widened her eyes in shock, and Rhys nodded again in agreement with her reaction. “The other two...I would prefer not to discuss, especially not with such short time constraints.” He hesitated as if to ask something, then seemingly decided against it. Nesta looked away and fidgeted.

“You can ask it, if you want. My question was far more personal than yours could ever be.” She saw his eyes out of the peripheral of hers, still watching her carefully.

“Have you tried talking to Cassian about any of this? He could’ve told you everything I did.”

She didn’t answer right away, letting Rhys’s words, all of them, settle in. When she did, her eyes moved to the floor, further away from Rhys’s, as she replied softly. “It’s too hard to. I can’t talk to him without the mating bond involving itself, and then I don’t...it’s just too much, trying to discuss these kinds of things while having to confront the way the bond makes me feel.”

Silence blossomed between the two of them again, but Rhys’s voice eventually broke through, this time in a much more gentle tone. “Whatever you need, Nesta, he’ll understand. But...please give him a chance. I’m not asking you to pour your feelings to him, or say anything in particular, just...please talk to him. When you’re ready.”

Nesta paused for a few seconds, feeling the wind increase in speed around her, and built her courage. “Okay, I will try.” She lifted her eyes to meet his. “Can you...can you make sure we get a chance to talk when I get back? Just us?”

Rhys opened his mouth to reply, but Cassian winnowed in right at that moment. He took a quick look at her, then averted his eyes, addressing Rhys.

“Ready to go?”

“One second.” Rhys turned back to her. “We’ll take care of it. Just get home safe.” She nodded back at him, and he grabbed onto Cassian’s arm, disappearing quickly in a plume of shadow.

Luck was with both of them, as Elain’s voice suddenly sounded against the stairwell. She was engaging in a discussion with someone as they climbed the stairs together. Nesta hurriedly headed to the top of the stairs to meet Elain, chatting up a storm with the guard whose arm she was on. She saw Nesta and smiled.

“See? It’s just her. I really am so, so sorry; we didn’t know this area was forbidden. My sister just needed a breath of fresh air.”

The guard nodded to Nesta, and Elain released the grip on his arm as he searched the balcony, then turned back to the two of them, speaking with a gruff voice. “Okay, you two are clear. But note that this wing is off-limits to party guests, so please refrain from wandering in this direction in the future.”

“Oh! Of course, sir.” Nesta curtseyed, feigning an embarrassed tone. “I didn’t know; it was just such a pretty view and all.”

He smiled back. “It’s quite alright. Enjoy the party.”

Elain and Nesta waved towards him, then headed back towards the party, Elain’s hand tightly gripping Nesta’s arm.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Well, that was frustrating.” On the way back to the hotel, Nesta fidgeted from the cold wind rushing from the nearby sea, wishing she had brought a cloak along to the party. They had stayed so late, in vain hope for information, that they were unaccompanied on their walk back, the clicking of their heels against the concrete boardwalk beneath their feet the only sound breaking through the steady whispers of the wind swirling around them. “All this, and still nothing.”

“At least we have something to tell Feyre.” Elain turned to her, eyes dejected, though Nesta could tell she was trying to keep their spirits up. “For now, let’s just enjoy the walk back. It’s a nice night.”

Nesta shivered again, then crossed her arms. “It’d be better if you hadn’t insisted we not bring cloaks. Remind me, again, why that was such an integral part of the plan?”

Elain laughed. “You know, as well as I do, that we would’ve been searched in that case, since they would already be taking the time to hold us and search the cloaks.”

Nesta exhaled, but she didn’t argue. Elain’s words were true enough, and while she felt she still would’ve gotten through due to where her vial was stored, they had no way of knowing the gender of the guards or the thoroughness with which they’d be searched. It was safer how they had handled it.

“Ma’am!”

Nesta turned to her left, only a hundred feet or so from their hotel by this point, at the female voice yelling out. Her eyes widened as they took in the young woman, running from a carriage stationed nearby. It was the older sister of the girl from that afternoon, the jeweler she had bought out. The woman stepped a few feet in front of her.

“Yes?”

“I heard from my little sister earlier you were looking for a female mercenary with wolf pelt and an array of other exotic items. Are you still searching for her?”

Nesta and Elain exchanged glances, then Nesta turned her attention back to the woman.

“Yes. Why do you ask?” Her words led to a wide smirk on the woman’s face.

“Because I have a meeting with her in three weeks.”


	19. Chapter 19

“I’m sorry, what?” Nesta blinked in disbelief at the girl’s words. “Why?”

“She stopped by our village a few months ago. She had a gemstone on her that I had never seen before. It was translucent, and it changed colors depending on the angle it was viewed at and the lighting involved. I knew that I could sell it here for thousands, maybe tens of thousands of gold if set in the right piece. She noticed my interest, though I had assumed it was far outside my price range.” Her smile dipped. “...for obvious reasons. She gave me six months to try to round up some coin, and she said she would try to work with me. Unfortunately, we’ve barely made enough to get by since then, so I assumed I would have to turn her down.”

She let her eyes slip from Nesta’s for a few seconds, and Nesta wondered whether she was thinking about earlier that day. She finally sighed and raised her eyes back up. “...then you came by today. Dropping all that money, I’d assumed you had just misunderstood the price. But then I found out you did the same for my sister.” A tear slipped down her cheek. 

“Thank you. Because of you, I’ll be able to flip your gold into enough money for us to be set for a long, long time, maybe even for life. To take care of my sister properly. And, in the meantime, we’ll have months worth of food, heating, and supplies, while I wait for her and then craft the piece afterwards. So, when my sister mentioned you asked about the mercenary, I tried desperately to find you. Unfortunately, I was only able to find out the hotel you were staying at, and they wouldn’t give me your room number. So I stationed our carriage outside and waited, hoping to find you.” She smiled again. “And I did.”

Nesta swallowed, sensing Elain’s eyes on her and feeling uncomfortable with the praise being heaped on her. She tried to steer the topic back to the mercenary. “Do you mind if we join you for your meeting with her?”

The girl nodded. “Of course. We live in a small village called Naril, about three and a half hours from here, straight down that road.” She pointed down the cobblestone road leading to the eastern city exit. “You can’t miss the big, red brick church house in the center of the village. Once you’re there, ask for Marie. That’s me.” She turned back to the carriage, making sure no one was near it and, by extension, her little sister. “In the meantime, we really need to start getting back. We’ve stayed late enough as is, though it was certainly worth it.” She bowed to both Nesta and Elain. “She’s coming by three weeks from tomorrow at 7 am. And thank you again, so much.”

Both Archeron sisters nodded back to her, and Nesta’s throat dried up at the happiness and gratitude on Marie’s face. Elain quickly spoke up in place of her. “Of course. Stay safe during the trip back.” Marie nodded in acknowledgment and turned on her heels, quickly moving for the carriage. When the horses had taken the merchants a good distance down the path in front of them, Elain turned to Nesta with a raised eyebrow.

“You told me to spend all of it.” Nesta didn’t dare look back at her sister, instead passing her on her way back to the hotel. Even without turning around, though, she knew her sister wore a big smile on her behalf, and her face burned in embarrassment.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Cassian eyed Rhys, who was helping Feyre clear the dining room table, from his position in the kitchen, as he took his turn washing the dishes. He had thought about asking Rhys what Nesta had asked of them, but he had originally felt it wasn’t his place. Still, though, the question had burned a hole in his mind throughout the entirety of their dinner and all of the subsequent preparatory sessions for the summit the Summer Court was hosting next week, and it was driving him insane. Rhys certainly hadn’t volunteered the information, and he wasn’t sure whether that should make him feel more suspicious or more comforted that it was likely a simple request.

He noticed Feyre excuse herself to check with Lucien about her sisters, and looked away as Rhys turned around to join him in the kitchen.

“Got another stack for you.” Rhys dumped the centerpiece plates next to Cassian, and he groaned at Rhys’s grin, as his High Lord moved to go join the rest of the group. He turned his head towards Rhys, watching him and speaking right before he left the room.

“Hold up.”

Rhys turned around on his heels, a risen eyebrow his only response, anxious to join his mate. Cassian sighed in defeat to his own curiosity.

“What did Nesta ask of you?” Rhys’s grin returned, and Cassian rolled his eyes, turning back to the sink.

“Been nagging at you, Cass?”

“Just a question, Rhys.” He tilted his head slightly, and he chided Rhys’s tone with a low, irritated growl.

“Nothing important to her safety.” The scowl grew on Cassian’s face at the non-answer. “Just ask her yourself. She’ll be back here the morning after tomorrow.”

“You know I can’t do that, Rhys.”

“Cass.” Cassian sighed, turning off the water and looking at Rhys, who now wore a serious expression. “Ask her.” Cassian studied Rhys’s eyes, wondering what he meant, but he didn’t have a chance to reply before Rhys’s head turned slightly upwards.

“Ah, I have to go. Can’t have Feyre and Lucien alone in the same room for any length of time; she’s already annoyed at him.”

“Do you blame her?” Cassian snorted, and Rhys met his reference to the Spring Court with a brief flicker of annoyance in his eyes.

“Not one bit.” He paused for a moment, then shrugged. “Things will be better once Elain’s back.” He turned around, but stopped in the doorway on his way upstairs, pivoting back to Cassian. “We good?”

“Yeah.” Cassian had already turned the water on, resuming the dish work. Rhys didn’t speak again, as he headed upstairs to join Feyre and Lucien.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Thank you all.” Elain nodded to the hotel porters, who were just finishing stuffing their carriage with all of the items they had bought in town the previous day, as well as their bags. “I left a tip at the concierge desk; I appreciate your help these few days.” They smiled back at her, and one of them, who wore a special, gold manager badge, bowed, leading the other four to bow in unison behind him.

“You’re very welcome, miss. Please consider us the next time you are in town.”

“Of course.” The attendants stood up and returned into the hotel. When the door had shut behind her, Elain turned to Nesta, one hand on the passenger door of the carriage and her eyebrow lifted. “Want to tell me what’s going on with you this morning?”

“Just open the door, Elain.” Nesta stifled her yawn with a gloved hand, and Elain obliged, rolling her eyes. It was true that she had looked a little disheveled this morning...but she felt she had done a good job covering it up, before they had checked out. Then again, Elain was her sister and most likely to notice something like this. “If you must know...” She entered into the carriage after her sister, closed the door behind her, and rapped on the glass. “To the manor.”

“Please!” Elain called after her, shooting her a warning glance as the carriage began to move. Nesta rolled her eyes and yawned again.

“As I was saying, I couldn’t sleep very well last night. I’m just too excited about everything and sharing–” Her tired eyes shifted to the silhouette of their driver, then back to Elain. “–our purchases with Feyre. I’m sure she’ll be pleased with the fruits of our visit.”

“Oh, is that so?” Elain eyed her, mischievously. Nesta cringed and avoided her gaze, turning her head towards the window; that look from Elain never boded well for the one who beheld it. “I’m sure _Feyre_ will most appreciate the hours you put into the dress you picked out this morning, as well.”

Nesta’s face flared at her sister’s words and she groaned in complaint; she had sworn Elain was asleep when she was fussing over her outfit that morning, knowing she’d still be in it when she arrived at the house. She had eventually settled on a low-cut black chiffon dress of hers, black lace covering her upper chest and shoulders and an open cut in the center of her upper back. She knew it would mesh well with the human world while she still had to be glamored, but she also wanted to make sure she made an impression, for when she made it back to the manor as well. And Elain knew damn well that impression was not for Feyre.

She narrowed her eyes and forced the blush from her face, turning back to her sister. “I wanted to keep up appearances in the Capitol.”

“All the way to the manor as well, it seems.” Elain’s eyes twinkled and her smile grew further. Nesta sighed sharply, color starting to inch its way back into her cheeks.

“Are you going to be like this the entire trip back?” Elain shrugged.

“Depends. While it remains fun. Which it still is.” She winked at Nesta, who grumbled under her breath. “Don’t blame me! You fluster easy when you’re tired.”

“Hmph.” Nesta crossed her arms, closed her eyes, and leaned against the carriage door. “In that case, I’m going to get some sleep. Wake me up in a few hours.”

“Oh, please. You’re going to hurt your neck sleeping like that.” Nesta felt a pull on her arm, and she let Elain lay her down in the carriage seat, her head on her sister’s lap. Elain’s hand rested gently upon her shoulder, thumb lightly pressing for comfort. “You know I just care about you.”

Nesta exhaled and tried to mumble a snarky reply, but it came out in an incoherent, failed retort, so she gave in to the welcoming blanket of her dreams instead.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Light streamed on Nesta’s face, and she murmured in annoyance at the warmth heating her cheeks. She pulled the sheets over her face to hide the sunlight...then immediately jolted up as a result.

Why was she in a bed? She looked around the room to gauge her surroundings and confusion filled her features. She was in Cassian’s bedroom...wearing nothing underneath the sheets, she realized as she clutched the sheets back up over her chest, more heat burning her cheeks, this time unrelated to the sunlight.

She heard footsteps at the stairs and instinctually pulled the sheets all the way up to her neck, laying down against the bed with her back faced towards the door, pretending to be asleep still. The bedroom door pushed open, and she scented him enter the room.

Her eyes shot open. She’d never been able to scent him from that far away. What was...

“Hey.” She heard him speak softly as he climbed onto the bed, his breath warm against the back of her neck. She still felt conflicted – was this a dream? Was her mind screwing with her? She felt him kiss her behind her ear, his tongue flicking against it, and that finally got an instinctual reaction out of her, as she flipped around, almost falling out of the bed. He caught her, and bewilderment colored his face as she let him guide her back into bed, mostly to avoid the embarrassment of falling on the floor.

“ _What_ are–” Her harsh retort cut off as she took him in in front of her. He was wearing his boxers, but no shirt, his muscles showing clearly against the sunlight drifting in. Her face reddened further. She closed her eyes and regained her composure, then looked back at him, speaking in a much quieter tone. “What are you doing?”

“I _was_ bringing you breakfast.” He gave her a confused smile, and her eyes drifted to the tray next to her at the foot of the bed, some of the food spilled from her outburst. Guilt struck her chest. “But clearly not even eggs and toast can make you enjoy mornings.”

She blinked. This had to be a dream. She clamped her eyes shut and pushed her body to wake up, then opened them again forcefully. She was still there. He appraised her behavior, as his eyes drifted down to her clutching of the sheets against her neck, despite his arm around her naked lower back. His eyes softened, and he raised his supportive hand slightly.

“Are you okay?”

“I...” What could she say in this situation? Where was she? _When_ was she? She sighed; she couldn’t take this out on Cassian, certainly not when she had no idea what was going on. “I’m sorry. I just don’t feel very well, and you shocked me.”

His eyes scanned hers further, but the concern did not leave his face. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, Cassian.” She narrowed her eyes as she snapped a reply at him. His eyebrow rose, but he seemed to relax somewhat. She looked at him expectantly. “You going to give me the tray, or am I going to have to get it myself?”

“Oh, well – I hadn’t thought of that option, but now that you mention it...” His eyes shone with delight, as he smirked at the skin she was still showing past the sheets, and she glared at him. “Fine, fine.” He reached towards the tray, trying to pass it to her. She suddenly realized she’d have to release her grip on the sheets to grab the tray, and her eyes drifted between her sheets and the food. His eyebrow raised further, and she sighed in defeat. Even if this wasn’t some weird future timeline... _thing_ , she supposed he wasn’t seeing anything new anyway. 

She grabbed the tray, letting the sheets fall into her lap. She synchronously leaned her back into his, though, to avoid observing his eyes travel down her body, unsure of how she would react. The initial shock of being here was wearing off, but she was having a hard time feeling comfortable without knowing what was going on. She could tell he could sense it too, as his hand stayed only lightly placed on her back, and she could hear his breath turn uneven behind her. She began to eat, as she heard his voice vibrate through his chest.

“Are you...sure you’re okay?” She turned her head and gave a questioning look, unable to respond with a mouth full of bread. “Maybe I should take you to a healer; you weren’t this on edge the last time.” She swallowed her food, as her stare became even more puzzled.

“The last–”

She heard pounding on the stairs and reflexively pulled the sheets up again. Cassian quickly grabbed the tray before it fell and sighed, placing it back at the foot of the bed as he got up and hurried towards the door. He made the distance before the door burst open, quickly grabbing the little girl who ran in.

The little girl who had Cassian’s skin tone, her eyes, her hair.

She suddenly found it very difficult to breathe. The girl waved at her as Cassian lightly lectured her for barging in, before Cassian looked back, his nurturing expression quickly turning into one of distress, as she realized almost too late what was going to happen. She bolted into his bathroom right before she vomited. She heard Cassian close the door halfway out of respect, and the girl spoke up from the other side.

“Is mommy okay?”

“Yeah, mom’s just a little sick. It’s normal; she was like this when she had you, too!” She heard him pause for a bit, before he continued. “Hey, how would you like to go to Auntie Feyre and Uncle Rhys’s today? They could take you to play around the castle again.”

“Okay!” She heard the girl giggle, then Cass looked through the crack in the door.

“Hey, I’m going to take her to Rhys’s. I’ll be _right back_ , I promise, okay?”

She just waved him off; the vomiting had subsided, but she still felt too unwell to speak. He hesitated for a moment, worry in his eyes, but he winnowed away.

She braced her elbows against the kitchen sink, pulling herself up to look in the mirror. Even with the paleness from being sick, she could see the shine in her skin, and she realized why she could smell Cassian’s scent better.

_She was pregnant._

She closed her eyes, unsure how much her body’s shaking was from her throwing up and how much was from the stress of the situation, and she sought to force herself to take deep breaths, attempting to calm herself. She felt Cassian winnow back into the bedroom, and he opened the bathroom door a few seconds later, holding a robe for her. He helped her into it and spoke.

“I really think we should call a healer for you. You’re pale, and I’m worried.” She tied the front of her robe with her still-shaking hands and nodded, turning to him to try to respond. Her foot caught on the bathroom tile as she swiveled and she tripped, falling towards the doorway. She felt his arms catch her as her body lurched forward, and she gasped as she instinctively shielded her face with her arms.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Nesta!” She spun around to find Elain holding her up, as she almost slid off the carriage seat from a bump caused by a particularly large rut in the road. She pushed Elain’s arms off her, sliding as far back in the seat as possible against the door, her body still shaking. Elain looked at her in shock...

...and Nesta began to cry. She cried more than she had cried when Cassian had told her he loved her, more than when she had found herself in Velaris for the first time, more than she felt she’d cried in her entire life. She felt Elain’s arms slowly find their way around her again, as she distantly heard her sister try to soothe her, claiming it was just a dream.

But she didn’t believe that. It was too real, too intense, to be a dream. She didn’t know how, but she had been given a chance to experience her future. Maybe it was just a possibility, maybe one of many, but it was real. She knew it was. She knew it was something she _could_ have, if she chose. And that realization was streaming tears down her cheeks, the tears her sister was mistaking as the signs of yet another nightmare in her life.

Because...although that was not the life she wanted right now – gods no she had no business having a child any time soon – and despite having no way to know how she felt about her life at that time...she knew that was what she wanted for herself.

A future...a future, where everything was finally calm enough for...for her to have a real family. Where she knew Feyre and Cassian were safe, and Elain – she took one look at her sister, who leaned back in surprise in response, and smiled – she’d just have to pull Elain along with her to safety as well. She choked back her tears in a laugh and wiped off her eyes, lightly pushing Elain off her.

“Sorry, I should be used to myself by now, Elain. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Are you okay?!” Elain’s words, reminding her of Cassian’s from...years ahead, she supposed – though that made her head hurt to think about – made her smile further.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Let’s just get back.”

“Nesta...you were–”

“I know...but I’m fine. I promise.” She flashed the smile still-present on her face, a genuine smile for once, to her sister. “See?”

Elain’s face was still twisted in a moderate suspicion, but she dropped the issue, sensing Nesta didn’t want to talk about it. Nesta gazed out the window herself, watching the trees fly past as she counted down the hours until she was back.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Four hours.

Cassian threw a ball against the floor of the upstairs guest room, watching it rebound off the wall and back to his hand.

Four hours ago, he had felt the bond snap. And had done the exact same, he might add, tracking down and virtually attacking Lucien for information in a blind panic. Lucien assured him Nesta was safe, but...bonds never lied. He had never trusted the man to begin with, so he had kept pushing, and when Lucien had spat in his face and suggested Nesta had rejected the bond, he had hit the man so hard he’d heard a distinct cracking of bone, so much so that he had been restrained by both Rhys and Feyre and ordered into this stupid room under severe penalty if he left.

The bond had snapped back into place about an hour ago, but he was still on edge. In his 500 years of living, he had never heard of a bond temporarily breaking. They weren’t due back for another 15-20 hours, and he already knew it was going to be the longest day of his life.

Footsteps at the door caused him to slide the ball into a corner, standing up and awaiting his High Lord or Lady. The door opened, and he found himself confronted by both. He crossed his arms, knowing further punishment was likely imminent. Rhys shut the door behind them, and Feyre spoke to him, her voice scathing.

“Talk. _What in Cauldron_ was that about?”

“I told you. The bond broke.” His voice was still weak, the past few hours having taken a lot of energy out of him. He kept his eyes on Rhys, not ashamed of his actions, but ashamed of how Feyre knew Elain would respond to Lucien’s state. “It returned an hour ago.” 

“You’re suggesting your mating bond _completely splintered_ , then _repaired itself_ just three hours later?” Rhys gave him an outrageous look., and Cassian held his gaze in response.

“Yes.”

“This is crazy, Cassian.” Feyre broke in, a similar incredulity covering her face. “Even if the bond _did_ break, that gives you no right to do what you did. I had Lucien take us back to Velaris, and, even with healers helping set and heal the bones, Rhys had to use his powers to help him or else he wouldn’t even have been able to sleep!”

“I was in control.” Feyre’s eyes widened even further at his words. “All the damage is temporary; he was never at risk of any form of real harm.”

“Cassian, you broke his nose on your first hit, and you should see the amount of blood I had to clean up!”

“As I said, temporary. If I had any intention of seriously hurting him, I would’ve aimed higher. A graze of his cheek and a solid shot in the nose means a lot of blood, but very little risk of actual harm.” Cassian nodded towards Rhys. “I guarantee you he would’ve done the same in my position.” He stared at Rhys in expectation, and Rhys stepped back, uncomfortable between being caught between his Commander and his mate. Feyre spoke up to avoid Rhys having to answer, her voice in a low tone he’d never heard from her.

“That’s _irrelevant_. My sister is going to come back here to find her mate’s face bruised and bloodied. Are you going to be the one to break that news to her?”

Cassian shifted uncomfortably. “I–”

The door was shoved open, and all three spun towards it in a defensive position, only to find Lucien staring down Cassian. Bandages wrapped his nose and parts of his left jaw, some blackness underneath his left eye the only visible damage. Feyre put her hands in the air.

“Great, Lucien, just what I needed right now. What are you doing here?” Lucien just stared at Cassian in response to her question, his metal eye whirring in place, though he conspicuously kept Rhys and Feyre in between the two of them.

“I just checked more in-detail with Elain, since you were no longer at my throat. Nesta was upset earlier, but their carriage ride has been uneventful. Just thought I’d let you know.”

“She was upset? Why?” Lucien had already started walking down the hall, and Cassian gritted his teeth in anger at being stuck in this room. “Is she okay?” Cassian called after him.

“For the last time, _yes_ ,” Lucien yelled back, already descending the stairs.

Feyre and Rhys turned to each other, then back at him. Feyre nodded to him and spoke.

“Enjoy it in here, Cassian. We agree that certain...factors were in play that mitigated the gravity of your behavior. And it certainly also helps your case that our healers said their magic will heal Lucien’s injuries within a day or two, besides minor bruises or cuts. Perhaps Nesta can hasten that even further. But you’re staying in this room for another twelve hours as our way of protecting Lucien, nonetheless. We will not have our Commander going rogue on another Night Court... _resident_.” She emphasized the last word with a bit of distaste, unsure of how to describe Lucien’s involvement with their Court. “Especially not when you two were warned against fighting. You’re lucky that I’m not just sending you back to Velaris, but I don’t think that’s fair to my sister.” She glared at him. “Do you understand?”

Cassian huffed his agreement, and Feyre nodded, leaving the room first. Rhys held his gaze for a moment longer, then just shook his head as he followed her out, shutting the door behind him.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“We’re about an hour away.”

The booming voice of their driver abruptly woke up Nesta, as Elain stirred slightly from her position on her sister’s shoulder. Nesta groaned as she looked outside into the dark horizon. There was no sign of light yet, but she knew the reds and yellows of the morning sun were imminent, nonetheless. She lightly shook Elain beside her.

“Not right now.” Nesta sighed.

“Fine by me, if you want to have bed hair when you see Lucien.” Nesta meant it in a teasing manner, but Elain shot her an unexpected glare as she turned her head to respond.

“I’m not going to put extra effort in – I don’t want him to feel self-conscious.” Her voice was sharp, and Nesta cringed. Elain sat up, brushing the wrinkles in her dress down, and sighed, speaking in a much kinder tone. “I’m sorry; you’re not the one I’m mad at. I shouldn’t be taking it out on you.”

“Mad at...?” Nesta raised her eyebrow, and Elain sighed again, much harsher.

“Yes, mad. Cassian hit Lucien.” Nesta’s eyes widened, more out of an uncertainty how to respond to that. “It’s obviously not your fault, but yes, please understand me being angry that your mate broke my mate’s nose.”

“Cassian _broke_ –?” Nesta’s face was stuck in shock, and Elain narrowed her eyes.

“Yes.” Elain cut Nesta off, then caught herself, taking a deep breath. “Anyway, what’s done is done. No need for you to get involved. I _will_ be having a word with Cassian, however.” She wore a scowl on her face, daring Nesta to attempt to step between them. Nesta put up her hands in concession.

“I need to talk to Rhys at some point, anyway. But please try to hear him out, before going off on him. I can’t imagine Cassian would hit Lucien for no reason, Elain.”

“It’s not acceptable for him to hit my mate, Nesta, for _any_ reason.” Nesta drew back in her seat at Elain’s accompanying glower, severe enough she felt even the Hybern King would retreat from its target.

“I–I didn’t mean...” Nesta cut off her stammer as Elain closed her eyes, recognizing her sister was trying to prevent this from turning into a big argument when they were so close to home.

“As I said–” Elain’s voice was strained as she spoke, eyes still closed. “–there’s no reason for you to be involved. Let’s talk about something else.”

Nesta swallowed, feeling an instinctive wish to further defend Cassian, but also wanting to avoid upsetting her sister. Her mental debate ended with a decision to avoid the topic for now, at least until she was able to get more information from him at the house. She looked to the bags.

“How do you think Feyre’s going to handle...all of this?” She gestured around the entire carriage, as bags covered the cabin floor, the front cabin’s passenger seat, and filled the storage in the back.

Elain took a bit to answer, still trying to clear the previous conversation from her head. When she finally spoke, her voice was mostly back to normal, though Nesta noticed it came out a little quiet. “I didn’t mean _that_.” She fidgeted with one of the bags at her feet, then handed a silver hand mirror to Nesta, who took it with a confused look on her face. “I may be preoccupied, but as your sister, it would be criminal for me to let you enter that house with how you look right now.”

Nesta blinked, then looked in the mirror, recoiling at her reflection. Her makeup had smeared from her crying, then _dried that way_ when she hadn’t thought to check on it. She turned to her sister, still cringing.

“How much time do we have again?” Despite her mood, Elain managed to crack a small smile as she fished out her makeup kits from her luggage.

“Relax, I’ve got you covered. I’ll do my best until we get there.”

Still, as Elain started to work at cleaning off her smudged makeup, Nesta’s heart pulled at the pain still in Elain’s eyes. She decided she would, in fact, have a conversation with Cassian about the topic as well.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The morning dew was just starting to form when they finally pulled into the manor driveway, and Nesta’s stomach started to turn at the realization she was finally going to have to have a real, planned talk with Cassian. This wasn’t how they usually did things, and she didn’t know how he – or she, for that matter – would handle it. Although...she supposed their usual kiss-then-fight strategy probably wasn’t exactly the healthiest thing in the world itself.

The front door of the manor opened, and she saw Feyre, glamored in her human image, running out towards the carriage. Elain must have slipped out the other door of the carriage’s cabin without Nesta noticing, as she saw her sister sprint right past a confused Feyre and run into the house. Feyre looked behind her, then decided against following Elain and resumed her march to the carriage. Nesta sighed and opened the door herself; she didn’t want to be cornered by her sister – not with that look on her face. She climbed out, two bags in hand, and moved to walk around Feyre, but her sister caught her and squeezed her close, Nesta offering a weak, one-handed response due to the bags in her other hand.

“What in Prythian were you two thinking, Nesta? Oh gods, I’m so happy you’re okay.” When Feyre pulled away, Nesta saw her eyes glistening, and she rolled her own eyes.

“We were helping you and Rhys, even if you didn’t want our help. And, might I add, we did a pretty damn good job. Now, if you’ll excuse me...” She lifted her bags. “...I need to move all of our bags and luggage into the house.” She moved to leave, but Feyre caught her again. She gave her sister an irritated look.

“I need your help with Lucien first. He’s–”

“...got a broken nose. I know.” Nesta finished Feyre’s sentence for her, and Feyre widened her eyes in surprise. “I was with Elain, remember?”

“Right.” Feyre breathed audibly, her countenance still overwhelmed with relief. “Listen, Rhys and I’ll get the bags if you heal Lucien, okay?”

“Deal.” Nesta’s eyes lit up, as she smirked at her sister’s misfortune. “See you inside in however long _that_ takes you.” Feyre looked at her in confusion, then called after her.

“How many bags do you guys have, anyway?” Nesta spun around.

“We counted 37.” She held up her bags again, as Feyre’s eye twitched. “Well, 35 I guess, now. We had to have some of our purchased items delivered directly to the hotel when we were in the Capitol, because we couldn’t carry them all.” Nesta twirled back to head into the house as she finished her sentence, shouting behind her at a defeated Feyre. “Have fun!”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Cassian watched from well above, shielded in shadow in flight, as Feyre removed all of the bags from the carriage and paid the driver. He’d took off in flight as soon as he was able to get out of the house in order to stretch his wings and work off the anxiety he’d built up over the night, but, as a result, he’d been caught outside once Nesta & Elain had arrived. He waited for the carriage to disappear from sight completely, Feyre already having returned to the house and come back outside with Rhys in tow to talk about how they wanted to handle the bags, before he touched down roughly on the stone ground below. Feyre startled, then rolled her eyes, throwing one of the two suitcases at him.

“Cauldron, Cassian. If you’re going to scare me half to death, at least have the decency to help us deal with this mess my sisters left for us.” He caught the bag and grinned. He had heard every word exchanged between Nesta and her.

“Sounds like you were the one to offer, Feyre. I shouldn’t encroach on your honor by lessening the burden of your promise.”

“You say another word, and I’ll show you just how much I care about my ‘honor.’” Feyre flashed him a glare as she grabbed as many bags as she could off the ground, trying to minimize her work. “Now go inside, before I make you take all of these in yourself.” She turned back to the task she had gotten herself into, and he flashed his teeth in a silent laugh, turning around and walking into the manor.

He was a step inside the manor when Elain’s scent hit his nose, stopping him in his tracks. He usually couldn’t detect details from any female’s scent other than Nesta, but her anger was so overwhelming, he felt it well before he pivoted to the side, seeing her stand in the living room, staring at him fiercer than he had ever seen her look at anyone, bar Feyre when she had first brought Lucien to Velaris. His eyes drifted from her, over to the kitchen doorway further down the hallway, where he heard Nesta and Lucien’s voices trailing from, then back behind him to Rhys and Feyre standing around the group of bags, talking about what to do with them, and finally back to Elain. He shut the front door to shield at least one group of people from what he suspected was about to happen, and set the luggage in his hands gently down on the floor.

“This about–”

“Yes.” She cut him off and bit her lip in restraint. Her fists were tightly balled, though, to the point her knuckles were whitening, and he could tell she was having to make a strong effort to keep her voice as low as it was to avoid alerting their respective mates. 

He tried to think of what he could say – she probably wouldn’t be as angry if she knew what Lucien had said to him, but...that was a product of a centuries-old hatred between the two men. He glanced towards the kitchen. He didn’t want her to have that opinion of her mate, not when he knew Lucien wouldn’t act like that around most males. He wouldn’t lie to her, though, so he turned back to her, and said the only words he could think to say instead.

“I’m sorry.” He swallowed and dipped his eyes, and Elain’s resolve dipped slightly as she stepped back in surprise, though her eyes quickly honed back on him.

“Why?”

“I...” He turned his attention to the kitchen again, staring at it as he whispered out the rest of his answer. “I thought she was hurt...really hurt.” He turned back to her. “But I’m still sorry.” His words rung true, though he honestly couldn’t care less about Lucien’s broken nose. He just hadn’t thought about the effect it would have on Elain, and he wished he had chosen a different method, in order to avoid the collateral damage.

Elain relaxed somewhat, looking to the kitchen herself as she spoke. “I don’t suppose I could convince you to say that to him.”

“Honestly, it wouldn’t do much good.” Her eyes saddened, and he felt guilt fill his chest. “Listen, Elain...” She looked back at him, eyes distant. “...there’s a lot of bad blood between Lucien, Rhys, and I. And what happened in the Spring Court...it exasperated a lot of it, and it brought Feyre into the feud too. I can’t promise that we’re ever going to like...or even tolerate each other very well. But I won’t hurt him again, if he doesn’t attack me himself. I don’t want to involve you.” She sighed and shrugged in exhaustion, though vexation still shone strongly in her eyes.

“I’m involved no matter what, and you know that, Cassian.” He flinched at the tone in her hiss. “Now, I’m not going to bother with you right now, because I want to give you and my sister a chance to stop being at each other’s throats first, but I want to have a sit-down, a _real_ sit-down between you, me, and Rhys, because if he leaves the Night Court, I leave too.” Cassian’s eyes flashed at her words, and she snorted. “Nesta knows too; I told her before she left for the Winter Court, because I was worried Lucien would be punished overly severely by Rhys for his involvement merely because of your guys’ impressions of him. He’s worked on revisiting how he sees you two; I wish you two would do the same for him.” Her words rose a bit too high in volume as she spoke, and Cassian’s attention shifted at the scuffling he heard from the kitchen.

“What in Prythian are you doing out here, El–” Nesta stopped dead in her tracks as she turned into the hallway leading from the kitchen to the main hall, seeing him at the other end. He pushed down his nervousness and tried to flash a grin, but it was as if his face had suddenly become paralyzed, and only with great force did he crack a weak smile. Elain looked rapidly between the two of them, her discomfort rising with the tension in the room, and called towards the kitchen.

“Lucien!” More noise sounded from the kitchen that brought Cassian back in control of his senses, and his eyes shifted from Nesta to Lucien as the male walked out of the kitchen to his mate’s voice. Their eyes narrowed as they made eye contact, and Elain quickly stepped in between them as she cleared the distance to Lucien. “Could you help Rhys and Feyre winnow the bags that are outside into the townhouse, so they don’t have to move them twice?”

“When did you get access to the townhouse?” Cassian growled out an instinctual threat, but the look on Elain’s face as she turned around to face him was lethal enough to make him dissipate it under his breath.

“For your information, Cassian, Feyre and Rhys granted me access when they had to go to the Winter Court without getting the chance to inform Elain or Nesta.”

“We’ll see ab–“

“ _Okay_.” Elain’s interruption got both male’s attentions, and she kept her eyes narrowed, meeting Cassian’s, as she gripped Lucien’s hand and addressed him. “Could you winnow us, please?” The two of them quickly disappeared, leaving Cassian alone with Nesta to analyze the residual smoke from the emotional battlefield that just occurred.

“Do you enjoy antagonizing my sister?” Her words came out sharp and short, as she put her hands on her hips in irritation, and he slit his eyes in response.

“Not particularly. Lucien, on the other hand...”

“Why’d you break his nose?” Another rapid question of hers cut in again, and she began walking down the hall towards him, heels tapping firmly against the wood with each step.

“It’s a long story, Nesta.” She scrutinized him, then sighed, about-facing and walking back down the hall instead.

“Tell me over breakfast then. I’m starving.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It took him over an hour of explanation before he even brought up yesterday’s situation, first discussing the details of centuries of damage from fighting between Lucien and Rhys and between Lucien and him. He left out Feyre’s situation when she asked, though, saying that was a story only her sister should decide to tell or not. She listened intently, eyes mostly fixed on her food or deep in thought. When he was finished, she put down her silverware and looked up at him. He was standing up, arms crossed, and leaning against the far wall, trying to discuss what was clearly a distressed personal history as calmly as he could. She tried to broach the topic a different way.

“What did Elain say about this?”

“I didn’t tell her.” Her face clouded in curiosity, so he elaborated. “When Rhys and I first met Lucien, he had just witnessed the woman he thought was his mate be executed in front of him by two of his brothers at the order of his father.” Her eyes shot open in shock. “He became a much different man, a man who brutally murdered one of those brothers and had Tamlin take care of the other. He was so traumatized by the incident, he let himself rely on Tamlin’s power, both literal and political, to achieve his means of retaliation. In exchange, his vindictiveness caused him to become blinded to the abuses of a man who, by and large, is a tyrant. I may not ever be able to see him differently, but I don’t want Elain to know that side of Lucien, a side I’m thankful not to see anymore.”

Nesta nodded and swallowed down a small amount of apprehension, absorbing the information. “Is he dangerous?”

Cassian shook his head. “No. As much as Feyre resented him for his timidness around Tamlin, she always felt that his heart was in the right place. And although I dislike him with my entire core, I can tell you right now that there isn’t a chance in Prythian he would let one hair on Elain’s head get hurt.” She didn’t answer, still thinking as she absentmindedly pushed her fork around her cleared plate, so he continued. “I’m not sorry for hurting him, but I am sorry for the effect it had on her.” She looked back up to him. “Centuries of instincts flared up, and she shouldn’t have gotten caught in the crossfire.”

She stood up silently, pushing the chair out behind her with a loud scrape against the dining room wood floors, taking her plate into the kitchen. She spoke, back turned to him, across the island separating the two.

“We need to talk.” The sink turned on, and she started scrubbing her dish clean, delaying her words to keep her nerves steady. “About us.” She turned the water off and dried her plate, putting it on the dish rack, before turning towards him, expecting an answer. She could tell his gaze in response was unsure, but he managed a word out.

“Okay.”

She rounded the island to walk back into the dining room, but she stayed on the opposite side of the dinner table, wanting to keep distance between the two of them as she talked. She felt his eyes burning into her as she stared at her fingers against the table, drilling against it softly with her nail, before raising her eyes back towards him, apprehension shooting through her stomach.

“I need to know something.” He raised an eyebrow, and she wondered if he was as anxious as she was about this, or if he just didn’t want to respond. Either way, it was becoming harder for her to form her words, and her eyes fell instead back to the bags on the dinner table that she had brought in. She steeled herself as best she could, then started the speech she had been working on the whole morning. 

“I’m not...simple, Cassian. Things are very day-to-day for me. I’m still getting used to my Fae body, to this world. Some days I look around me...and see how happy my sisters are, how pleasant the citizens of Velaris are, how everyone in the Court of Dreams takes care of each other, and I feel optimistic about my future. Other days, I look around me and see the destruction caused by Hybern, the stress of this war, the stress of... _magic_ , and I wish I could just go back to being human and having my biggest worry be what party was coming up next that week.” She took a deep breath, then continued, lifting her eyes back to him. 

“It’s the same with us.” He shifted in place at those words, but he was listening raptly as he stared back, tension lining his eyes. “Some days I don’t want anything else but to spend the whole day, enraptured with you. Other days, I hate it, feeling like the mating bond is manipulating me into wanting to be near you.” Pain flashed across his eyes, and it took a miracle of courage building within her to keep speaking through it. “There are times where I see you and only want to thrust myself at you. And there are times where physicality is the last thing I want from anyone, even you.” The memory of her anxiety from seeing Tomas’s father in the Capitol returned to her, and she closed her eyes tightly. “Though that’s not your fault,” she hastily added as she felt him stiffen through the bond. She opened her tearing eyes to see him still appraising her, waiting, hearing her out. She sighed and wiped at her eyes.

“I just feel so...toxic. I’m so inconsistent with how I feel, what I want, who I am...all I’m ever going to be to you is stressful.” She saw him move to react, but he held it in at her hand’s rising, she requesting he let her finish. “I’ll swing too far on the pendulum one direction, then freak out and rush to the other side. I’ll let myself be with you, then panic when I lose myself in you. I’ll push you away, then panic when I feel I’m hurting you. And...” She dipped her head, finding it harder to hold back her crying, but not wanting to interrupt her words. She knew if she stopped talking, she might not start again. “...I feel like I just can’t win, Cassian. If I’m with you, all I’ll ever do is hurt you. If I’m not with you, all I’ll ever do is want you. It’s just...it’s not fair!”

The dam broke, and her tears started falling in a torrent of emotion. She tried to keep going, but she just couldn’t voice the words anymore. She felt his arms envelop her, as he had quickly crossed the gap between them, and she wrapped hers around his upper back, shaking as he pulled her in tightly against his chest. His chin rested against the top of her head, and his breath felt warm against the tips of her ears as his hands rested firmly against her lower back. She breathed in his scent, hoping it would relax her enough to keep going, but her tears kept pouring, drenching his tunic. She felt, more than heard, his booming voice, as it vibrated against his ribcage.

“Can I talk?” She paused to consider for a moment, still crying, but nodded into his chest, knowing she wouldn’t be able to speak again for awhile. “First of all, you’re not toxic. Not even close. At your best, you are the single-best thing that has ever happened in my entire life, across a half-millenia, and it isn’t even close. At your worst, you frustrate or anger or, sure, stress me, but...sometimes that’s when I find you most attractive.” Tears drying, Nesta looked up at him, meeting his suggestive grin with a roll of her eyes as she wiped at them and mouthed out a quiet retort.

“Oh, shut up.”

“Ah, ah. I listened to you, now you have to listen to me.” She lightly pushed him off to put physical distance between them again and gave him a scoffing gaze. He raised an eyebrow to dare a challenge, but she sighed, motioning for him to continue. “Secondly, it doesn’t matter to me if you need time and/or space at times, or even often. True, I _could_ use a little more communication, but...” His eyes softened, and her face actually heated with a blush at the tenderness he was meeting her gaze with. “...I would wait another half-millenia for you, if that’s what you needed.” The heat became a flare, but her natural instinct to hide her blush lost out to her inability to pull her eyes from his in this moment. “I would wait any amount of time, if that’s what you wanted, Nesta. Because I want you to be happy with me. If you aren’t happy being with me, then you shouldn’t be with me. Whether that means waiting for it to be right or...” His voice trailed and he shut his eyes briefly before meeting hers again. “No matter what, as long as you are doing what you need, what you want, I could never be hurt by you. We don’t have to do anything, we don’t have to be anything, if that’s what you want. So please...just do what makes _you_ happy.”

Nesta’s mouth hung slightly ajar, as she felt she had forgotten how to speak. Not when the hazel in his eyes called out to her blue, not when her brain was half-processing his words and half-processing the way his embrace had...reminded her of something. Something like comfort, like home. She shook her head and turned her back to him. She couldn’t let her emotions get in the way of what she needed to. She needed to know that everything she did here, in this moment, was both her decision and rational. She coughed and changed the subject, until she was ready to continue this conversation.

“So, you won’t panic at me having another power?” She heard him stir behind her, but his voice came out, arrogant as ever.

“This like your seventh?”

She turned back to him, a smirk lining his face, as he understood her wish to lighten the mood. She supposed he had also realized by now that she wasn’t going to reject the bond today, though he was an idiot for even thinking that in the first place. Though...that uncertainty was the entire reason she had brought up the conversation in the first place, she supposed.

“Nesta?” He raised an eyebrow at her deliberation.

“Sorry, was just pondering how I ended up with someone so cavalier in serious situations.” She gave him a mocking look, and he responded with a bigger grin.

“Probably the same reason you ended up almost fucking me in a Winter Court utility closet during a mission.”

“Oh please. Add conceited to your list of adjectives.” She frowned at the flash in his eyes; she knew it meant he felt he had the advantage in their spar. And besides, she didn’t have time for this war of attrition right now, though perhaps she’d let herself return to it in a few minutes. She cut off his reply, partly to get back on track, but mostly because of how much she saw he had wanted to give it. “ _Anyway_. I have a new power.”

“Yes, of course.”

“Prognostication.” Her eyes turned serious, and skepticism shone in his.

“Fortune-telling?”

“No, not _fortune-telling_.” Her face heated at his callous description of it, and she narrowed her eyes and put her hands on her hips. “I...can see future events.”

Cassian looked away, flicking his eyes back and forth and rolling his tongue, mockingly deep in thought, then turned back. “So...fortune-telling.” She almost growled back at him.

“ _An_. _Y_. _Way_. My point being that I think it’s what caused you to feel like we lost our bond earlier.” His grin faded, and his expression turned much more grim. “You don’t know what could happen with it, or with any of my powers, or whether I get even more powers later on. Especially with me being unable to control any of them right now.”

“Have you tested your... _event-seeing_ –” She scowled at his terminology, but he ignored it. “–to make sure it’s accurate? It could be something else.”

Her cheeks heated. “I...uhh...it’s too far in the future to test.” Her accidental fluster got his attention, and she silently cursed at his realization that she didn’t want to tell him.

“I see. So what is this event that you have prophesied, then?” Her cheeks burned hotter, and she rolled her eyes upwards at his triumphant smile.

“It’s not important.” He grinned further, but she decided to let him imagine whatever he would. It was better than her saying it out loud. “Was there a point to your question?”

“If you can’t test it, you have no idea if it’s actual magic or your mind messing with you.” His eyes glided to the wall, lost in thought, as he spoke his thoughts. “Or it could be both; maybe there’s too much magic in your body, so it’s going haywire. You _do_ have Rhys’s powers, though...I don’t think those would apply here, even so.” He looked back at her. “Do you feel energetic and jumpy, but tired at the same time?” She gave him an incredulous look.

“What? No. Do I look like I do?”

“Fair enough. Then it’s unlikely a burnout, though I doubted that too.” He scanned her, concern overwriting his former taunting of her. “Maybe we should talk to Rhys and Feyre and see what they have to say.”

“No.” Her reply came out sharply, and Cassian raised an eyebrow at her remark. She couldn’t have them leave yet; she hadn’t finished everything she had wanted to talk to him about. “I mean, it can wait. It happened when I was sleeping, so we have a long while to talk to him, before there’s a chance of dealing with it again. And besides, we’re not done here.” He just kept his eyebrow raised, and she sighed. “I got you some stuff from the Capitol.” He laughed.

“What? What kind of stuff?” She nodded over at the bags on the table.

“Those are your bags.” He clucked his tongue.

“Two out of 37, so considerate.” Her surprised reaction got another laugh from him. “I was outside when you got home; I overheard your conversation with Feyre.”

“Ah, well, consider yourself lucky I got you anything.” She crossed her arms, motioning her head towards the bags, and he sighed, sitting down next to them, fishing through them. “But Elain gave me so much money that I was required to spend, I didn’t really have much choice.” Her stomach twisted, but she forced through her words, trying not to distract him from his looting of the bags. “I got you some clothes that hopefully fit; the tailor was pretty shocked at the dimensions I gave for a human male, needless to say. I also got you some weapons, some _badly_ -needed decorations for your apartment...” She saw him pull out one of the dessert boxes she had gotten from the little girl, wrapped in plastic. “...and some sweets from one of the bakers in town.” He laughed again as he set it down, smirking at her before digging back into the bag.

“You know you actually have to prepare the food to accept the bond, right?” His tone came out in jest, a smirk back on his face as he was trying to relax the mood. She swallowed, preparing herself, knowing that there was zero chance of that happening.

“I know.” Nausea flooded her body from the anxiety of the moment, but she forced herself to continue speaking. “That’s why I gave the dessert that was originally in there to Elain.” He stilled immediately at her words, hands still in one of the bags. “And why I woke up early yesterday morning, to...” His eyes shifted to hers, and the words stuck in her mouth at his gaze. She closed her eyes, pushing through her nerves. “...to make a new one, with the baking ingredients we bought that...” Her eyes opened again, as her words finally gave out in response to the churning in her core and her trepidation about his response, but he was just sitting there still, eyes glued to her, a dumbfounded look on his face. There was no way she could continue with him acting like this.

“Ca–” Another shot of nerves through her stomach led to her wincing, and she pleaded with her eyes. “Cassian, say _something_.”


	20. Chapter 20

“Cassian, say _something_.”

He heard the words faintly, seemingly muffled as he blankly stared at her. He should probably move, or do or say something, but every muscle in his body was betraying him, keeping him rooted in this spot, in this position. Had she just? But that wasn’t... His mind flooded with so many thoughts and questions, he couldn’t process any of them. He tried to say something meaningful, talk this out with her, but like the rest of his body, his mouth wasn’t functioning. He pushed himself to come up with something, and he choked out a response.

“What.” He cursed at himself internally. That certainly hadn’t helped his cause, as her expression turned wounded. He pushed himself again. “But.” Their eyes remained locked, and real fear was shining on her face now. At the very least, he needed to say something that could get her to speak until he could get hold of his senses. He tried again. “Why.”

Her eyes finally broke from his, changing focus to the box in front of him. Her voice came out, shaky and weak, especially for her, as she took a step towards the table. “You don’t have to–” Her words cut off at his hand moving in reaction, covering the box before she could grab it from him. She looked back at him, her features full of uncertainty. He finally felt his breath; he hadn’t realized how numb he’d gone in those initial seconds. He attempted a response again.

“That’s...not what I meant.” His eyes finally broke from hers to the box under his wrist, then moved back to her. “You just...” He gritted his teeth – this was still going to be difficult. He forced out every word, determined to get that look off her face. “I thought you were...having a hard time...with us.”

“I...was.” She swallowed as tension heavily underscored her voice, and he wondered if she was having the same reaction as him to this situation. He concentrated on his breathing, trying to relax himself enough that he could discuss this when she was able to respond. She closed her eyes again, and enough time elapsed, the two of them silent, that Cassian wondered if those two words were all she was going to respond with. However, she finally opened her eyes, continuing her reply.

“I _was_ having a hard time with us. I guess I still am, in a way.” He leaned back in his chair, not really understanding what she was saying, but trying to. She sensed his perplexity and bit her lip, eying the wall behind him and trying to figure out how to form her explanation. “This is something I’ve known for awhile now, Cassian, but...” She hesitated. “Look, I’m never going to reject the mating bond.” He felt he should feel relief at her comment, but his body was still too in shock for...anything, really. Or maybe...he already knew that, deep down. She continued. “This trip has done nothing but accentuate that for me.”

“You don’t need to accept it now. I don’t mind waiting however long–”

“I _know_ , Cassian.” Her eyes narrowed as she interrupted him, and he nodded to let her know he wouldn’t cut in again. She sighed. “I know. I believe you when you tell me that. But that’s just it – that’s just what the bond’s supposed to be, right? Two people meet, let the bond entangle them so much to the point that they can’t distinguish reality from physicality with their relationship. They see the bond, and say that this must be their fated relationship, and they just set themselves into a predetermined ritual that neither of them really chooses.” Her eyes averted his. “I don’t want that.” His eyes moved back to the box. If she didn’t want it, then why...

“What _do_ you want, Nesta?” Her eyes shot back to his with a strong fire behind them, and his eyes lit up in panic, unsure if his question was inappropriate.

“I want you–” She slightly motioned towards him. “–to eat that.” Her hand waved towards the box, but his eyes stayed trained on hers. “I’m done playing by this thing’s rules. I’m giving you a chance to make this bond irrelevant.” Confusion lined his eyes, and she sighed in impatience. “I can’t let myself get close to you as long as I’m worried about this stupid bond. And it’s not like I would ever reject it, Cassian. So I’m asking you to accept the bond with me...on my terms. On _our_ terms.” He eyed her.

“How so?”

“First of all...” Her eyes remained firm, but the anger behind them dissipated. “Just because you eat that doesn’t mean you’re my husband, or...life partner, or whatever the term is in Prythian.”

“We just say ‘mate.’” His comment sparked her to roll her eyes, before she retrained them on him.

“Well...I guess ‘mate’ is fine. But I mean, we’re just dating. I don’t want some ceremony; we’re not married or anything, not until a time that we’re both ready, probably years in the future. But...” Her eyes softened and she bit her lip again in anxiety, although it had heavily lessened for both of them. “...I do want you as my boyfriend.”

He took in her words, then nodded. “Okay.” She held his gaze, then nodded back and kept talking.

“Secondly, I’m not going to suddenly be a different person, and you need to know that. That’s why I said what I did, earlier. I don’t know if I’ll ever be fully comfortable with everything here, with me being Fae, with everything that ‘us’ means. I hope I can be, some day, and I feel I can be...” She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, then reopened them. “...but I can’t guarantee you anything. And I want you to know that, before you accept the bond. I may do crazy things like...these last few days, and you need to be prepared for that. But in the same vein...I want you to have this–” She motioned to the box, then between them. “–as something to ensure you don’t ever have to worry about _us_ being...not us, if it happens again.” 

Her eyes swarmed with solicitude, and they stared at each other silently for a long moment after she stopped speaking. He moved to get up to comfort her, but she shook her head harshly, so he let himself slump back down in his chair. “I need to know...that this is done rationally, Cassian. I can’t let myself get caught up with you until you make a decision.”

He nodded and dipped his eyes to the box, taking his time in thought. Well, not really thought so much – he was still having a difficult time processing this – but he wanted to buy himself some time, at least until he was able to. She let him sit there, taking her own seat a few chairs down, waiting patiently for his reply. After a long period of mutual silence, he raised his eyes to her appraising gaze. He knew what _he_ wanted, but... 

He sighed quietly. No, he wasn’t going to second-guess her statements, not anymore. He cleared his throat.

“You really want this?” She sat back in her chair, a little surprised at the question, but nodded. Her eyes were filled with the same answer. He leaned back in his chair and addressed her, clearing his throat to try to break some more of the tension. “I’m going to need some paper and a pen.” She raised her eyes in curiosity, and he sighed, letting out a single, short laugh. “I have a strategy meeting in an hour that there’s no way in Prythian I’m making. I need to at least give a reason...unless you want Rhys or Feyre coming by my apartment, harassing me about it, that is.” Her eyebrow rose further.

“I think I can make time to allow you to...” Her voice trailed off as a fuller laugh broke from his lips, though he choked it down quickly with a cough at her glare. “What?” He flashed a grin at her.

“I guarantee you that you will not want me going anywhere for _days_ , let alone in an hour.” She blinked, and he raised his own eyebrow at her, a smug look still lining his face. “You sure you want to do this?” She rolled her eyes and stood up from the table, muttering obscenities about the bond, and his smile grew.

“Just eat your damn cake.” She walked into the kitchen, rifling through drawers to find some clean parchment and an ink pen, dumping them forcefully on the table in front of him as he unwrapped the plastic surrounding the box. “I left my breakfast silverware on the table for a reason.”

He picked up the pen and wrote the quickest note of his life.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Where in Prythian...” Rhys looked out the window of the House of Winds’ conference room at the sun, now only an hour or two from being completely overcast. “Az, can you get Cassian from the manor? I don’t want to have to brief him over any more of this meeting if I don’t have to. I know Nesta and he have a lot to talk through, but this is starting to get ridiculous.” Az nodded and disappeared in a puff of shadow, before he turned back to Amren and Mor at the other end of the table. “Everyone should take a break, in the meantime. Just make sure to be back in five minutes.” 

Nods met him, and he leaned back in his chair after the corresponding winnows. He felt a nudge from beside him at the head of the table, and he turned to eye his mate, who smiled at him.

“My sister’s a piece of work, huh.” He shook his head and widened his eyes in exhaustion.

“I have more of an idea than you’d think.” Inquiry crossed her features, but Azriel winnowed back in, sparing him the discomfort of answering it. They both turned to Azriel, expectant. His normally-stoic face carried with it the faintest trace of awkwardness, detectable only due to their centuries-old friendship. He tossed a note to Rhys, who read it out loud.

_Off to the Mortal Lands. See you when I get back. Sorry._

_~ Cassian_

Rhys headdesked, and Feyre’s voice sounded out, frantic beside him.

“Wait, what? Elain said the meeting was in three weeks! Where in Prythian is he going with my sister? Why...why am I the only one...freaking out over this?” Her tone considerably lowered as she observed Azriel’s and his calmness, even with his head on the table. He dragged himself back into a sitting position.

“He’s not...” He sighed and put a hand on the back of his head, not particularly wanting to explain this. He checked to make sure he didn’t sense anyone else within earshot in the House of Winds. “It’s a phrase he, Az, and I made up centuries ago.” She looked between the two of them, both of them trying to avoid eye contact with her. “It means...’the cabin.’” He looked at her, trying to make his point without explicitly mentioning the details with the sister of Cassian’s mate. Feyre laughed, looking rapidly between the two of them.

“You guys can’t be serious.” She looked firmly back at Rhys. “It’s _Nesta_ , Rhys. They haven’t even _done_ anything yet.” Rhys let out an uncomfortable cough to let her know she was wrong on that point, without having to mention the morning Nesta asked him for more medicine for Cassian, and her face stilled. “ _Nesta_.” Rhys nodded. “With _Cassian_.” Another nod, and a shrug from Azriel as she turned her attention to him. She stood up sharply and stomped towards the door. “I’m going to kill her.”

“Woah, woah, woah.” He got up quickly too, cutting her off at the door. “Feyre, _darling_ –” He nervously grinned at her responsive glare. “Do you really want to confront her _right now_?”

She held her glare up for a few seconds, then sighed and threw her hands up in the air, as she walked back into the center of the room. “Rhys, we have a meeting in the Summer Court in _five days_. He’s _already_ on extremely thin ice with them, and we had to pull tons of strings to get Tarquin to grant him even the smallest allowance to be there to _attend_ the meeting.” She swiveled quickly around to meet Rhys’s gaze, hands on her hips. “Do you really think he’ll be fine by that meeting?”

“Not a chance.” She huffed at his reply and shook her hands in stress, sharply exhaling. Their mating bond had taken over two weeks itself to settle, and with Cassian’s power level and Illyrian blood, Nesta’s and his bond would likely require a similar amount of time. “Az, head to the Summer Court for me, please. Try to work something out with Tarquin.” Azriel nodded and winnowed out again, and Rhys started to walk over to Feyre, though she waved him off and sat back down in her seat, hand on her forehead.

“What’s done is done, Rhys. All we can do is wait them out, at least until we can talk normally to Cassian.” Rhys sat down next to her, and she laid her head on his shoulder. “Don’t get me wrong – I’m happy for her, just...” She sighed, but Morrigan winnowing in prevented her from speaking further. Mor glanced between the two of them carefully, sensing the tension in the room, then motioned towards the door. 

“Should I...?”

“No, it’s fine.” Feyre motioned with her hand for Mor to sit down. “Just some minor inter-Court drama. Azriel’s dealing with it.” Mor shrugged, then took her seat.

“And Cass?”

Rhys coughed. “He requested a later briefing instead, due to Nesta stuff. We granted it due to...extraordinary circumstances. You heard what happened to Lucien – I’d rather not have an on-edge Commander at these meetings anyway.” Feyre exhaled sharply beside him, but Mor just snorted. When Amren winnowed in a few seconds later, Mor turned to her.

“Cass isn’t coming.” Amren shrugged.

“His decision. I’m sure Rhys will take care of it, accordingly.” She turned her eyes to Rhys. “Az?”

“He’s in the Summer Court, handling a few loose strings for us. He should be back soon–” Azriel winnowed in, and Rhys just waved his hand at him as the full response to Amren’s question. Azriel took in the room, then turned to Rhys, voice even and professional.

“So, I just got back from talking with Tarquin about the format of the meeting. We’ll be having 30 minute breaks every two hours, to stave off the tension of various Court members.”

“That’s _insane_.” Mor spoke from her seat. “We’re never going to get anything done that way.” Azriel turned to her, hesitating for a split second, as he thought about how he wanted to respond to her without lying. Rhys studied Amren’s eyes, wondering if she could sense it too, but she just lifted her eyebrows at him in boredom.

“Tarquin considers it necessary.”

“Tell him it’s fine.” Rhys cut in before Mor could respond, trying to provide a lifeline for Azriel. “We’ll make do.” Azriel nodded and disappeared before Mor could cut in a word. Rhys put his hands on the table, raising his eyebrows briefly in anticipation. “Let’s get back to the meeting, shall we?”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“You’ll be fine, Rhys.”

Feyre turned to Rhys as they touched down a block from Cassian’s apartment. They had waited until late evening to visit, to give Cassian and her sister as much time to...process as possible. Rhys looked back at her, sighing.

“I’m not worried I’m going to get hurt. I _am_ going to get hurt; that’s not the question.” He rubbed his hands in anxiety. “The harder part is how I’m going to provoke him; I can’t exactly use the same method he used to help me.”

Feyre rolled her eyes. “Obviously, I’m not going to think you’re serious with whatever you say, Rhys.”

“Maybe so.” Rhys looked back at her with a serious tone in his eyes. “But I’m not hitting on another female in front of my mate. Or at any time, for that matter.” He added the last part in response to her mockingly offended expression.

“I’m sure you’ll think of something. I’ll keep her distracted, in the meantime.” They reached the front door of his apartment, and she motioned towards it. “After you.”

He sighed again, but pounded on the door twice, as loud as he could. He turned back to his mate. “And now we wait.”

Her eyes darkened with the looming nature of their ‘mission.’ “Now I’m starting to feel your dread, Rhys.”

“Yes, well–”

The door opened suddenly in front of them, and Cassian appeared, looking very hastily dressed and wearing a massive scowl on his face. “Can I help you two?” Feyre watched as Rhys took a deep breath, then looked Cassian in the eye.

“Finally, eh?” Cassian narrowed his eyes in response.

“Rhys, I’m not talking abou–”

“How was she?” Feyre instinctually widened her eyes at his comments, but quickly reminded herself that Rhys wasn’t meaning anything he said. Cassian let out the most threatening growl she had ever heard from him.

“ _Lay off it, Rhys_.”

“What in Prythian is going on?” Nesta’s groggy voice sounded from the stairs, as Feyre heard her footsteps walking down, and the next few moments seemed like a blur.

All it took was for Rhys to make a simple, intrigued smile, and Cassian threw the first punch, Rhys blocking it with his powers. Cassian grabbed him, and they tumbled to the ground, sparring on the cobblestone streets. Feyre cringed at how painful that must be, but she concentrated on her part of the job, walking inside and closing the door enough to block Nesta’s vision of the streets outside. She winced at Nesta’s scent, now overwhelming Cassian’s apartment.

“Seriously, wha–” Nesta rounded the base of the stairs and sighed, eyes thinned, as she deadpanned the rest of her statement. “Oh, it’s Feyre. What a surprise.” She started walking towards the kitchen, and Feyre’s face warmed in embarrassment at Nesta’s clothes, a mix of one of Cassian’s shirts and his boxers. “I’m going to make some tea then, I guess. Would my nosiest sister like a cup?”

“I’m good, Nesta.” Nesta merely flashed her eyebrows in response, putting a small kettle of water on the stove as Feyre entered the kitchen from the other side. Feyre frowned at her sister. “Why? Why now?”

Nesta leaned against the cabinets on the far side of the kitchen, face calm. “I don’t answer to you.”

“Technically, you do, Nesta, especially when it relates to my military commander.”

Nesta raised her eyes to her sister, viewing her out of the corner of her eye as she turned to fish a cup out of one of the cabinets behind her. “Not about the bond, I don’t.”

Feyre sighed. This was going to be as difficult, if not more, than she thought. “We have a summit in five days that he _has_ to attend; ever think about that?”

The whistle sounded of the kettle, and Nesta turned off the stove, pouring the water into her cup. She grabbed a tea bag from one of the drawers, stirring it in the drink. Feyre glared at how slow she was responding. “Despite how he acts, he’s an adult; he can handle it.” Nesta nodded towards the door, smelling the tea. “What’s going on out there?”

Another sigh made its way out. “Rhys and Cass are fighting. It’s a thing males do to help remove the edge of the mating bond until they’ve adjusted.” Nesta’s eyebrow rose, amused, and she cracked a smile. Feyre wasn’t sure if she’d ever seen her sister this relaxed before.

“I have to see this.” Nesta walked out the other side of the kitchen and through the living room in order to avoid Feyre, pulling the door open with her foot and staring at the scene outside. She called towards Cassian, as she saw Rhys almost land a direct hit. “Looks like you’re losing your focus, _sweetheart_!” She laced the ending with a familiar acidity as she used his term, but her smile lit up her face further as Cassian flipped Rhys in response, fighting harder. Feyre hit her arm, drawing her attention.

“Don’t egg him on!” Nesta smiled again.

“You’re just mad Rhys is losing.” Feyre gritted her teeth at her sister’s successful attempt to irritate her. Nesta addressed her, still staring at her mate’s fighting. “I can get him off Rhys if you want, you know. If you agree to leave us alone until the summit.”

Feyre grimaced. “That’s four and a half days.” Nesta’s eyes flashed, but she didn’t respond, choosing to sip her tea instead. Cassian landed a strong hit on Rhys finally, and she sighed, Nesta’s smile growing. “Fine. But he better make it through the summit.”

Nesta whistled to Cassian. “Hey, Cass.” He looked up, eyes wild, hands pinning Rhys down. She just smirked at him and thrust her cup of tea to Feyre with one hand, pushing her past the doorway with the other, as he got the message, stalking quickly over to her. She let out an uncharacteristic squeal as he picked her up, the door slamming behind him in Feyre’s face. She turned to Rhys, who was groaning on the ground still, and rolled her tongue in displeasure.

“That...didn’t go as well as I’d hoped.” Rhys groaned further in response.

“You’re not the one who got the crap beat out of them.” He laid down flat on his back, looking up to her with his eyes. “We probably should have waited another day.” The aversion of her eyes had him sitting up. “What?”

“I...told her we’d leave her alone until the morning of.” Rhys closed his eyes in defeat and laid back down.

“Oh well. It’ll be an interesting summit, at least.” He eyed her again, exhaustion lining his eyes. “I think I’m just going to sleep here, if that’s okay.” She exhaled in mock teasing.

“Come on.” She walked over, leaning down and kissing him on the ground. He groaned again when she tried pulling him up by his arm back into a sitting position, and she rolled her eyes, before scanning him up and down with a seductive smile. “You need a bath, anyway.” The gleam in her eyes finally got him to sit up, and she kissed him again. His wings extended, and he pushed them both up into the air from that position. He smiled at her in between kisses, then took off for the House of Winds.

“I can’t say no to that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, thank you guys so much for reading my whole fanfiction. From a fanfiction I expected to span only a few chapters, I ended up with >100k words. I owe you guys for commenting, reading, and urging me to continue. I believe I speak for a lot of people when I say that I can't wait for what Sarah J. Maas prepares for us in ACOTAR 3 (hopefully lots of Nessian). And I want to thank her too for writing a relationship that really inspired me to write an entire fanfiction around, and for writing two series that have literally impacted my life.
> 
> I may be writing a second half to this story at some point, probably in a few months after I take a break, but the goal is to have the entire arc finished by the time the third book comes out. This first half was about how I foresaw Nessian getting together, and the second half would be more focused on the resolution of the story itself.
> 
> P.S. For an account of Nesta and Cassian's NSFW adventures and the conclusion of this first half, please continue onto the next chapter ;).


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> VERY NSFW. I kept this a separate chapter to keep the whole fanfic T. You've been warned, and enjoy ;).

There are moments in one’s life where the speed at which one experiences them is directly proportional to the amount of enjoyment one gleans from them. This, Nesta noted, was not one of those moments, as Cassian was taking forever to eat the cake she had baked for him. She groaned loudly, putting her chin on the table.

“It’s going to spoil before you can even finish it, at this pace.” He raised his eyes at her and winked, speaking in between bites.

“I only get to experience this once; I’m going to take my time.” He slid out the chair separating their two seats with his right foot. “If you’re really impatient, you could always join me over here, you know.”

She stuck out her tongue at him, and he shrugged, taking another infuriatingly small bite. She was pretty sure he had cut an even smaller chunk of the cake than normal, just to mess with her. He wore a taunting gaze as he looked back up at her, and she sighed, giving in. She supposed that, if he had already accepted her offer, there was no concern about losing herself in him. Apparently, she’d be doing so with him as a result of this bond, anyway. She stood up, putting her hands on her hips.

“If I move over there, will you eat a little bit faster?” His eyes met hers, and he finally swallowed his miniscule bite of cake.

“It might incentivize me to hurry up a little.” He smiled at her and, when she didn’t budge, moved to make another small cut. She rolled her eyes and snorted.

“I’m about to just stuff your face with it, at this point.” She made sure to accentuate the edge of her tone, as she crossed over to his chair, laying across him and nuzzling her head into his neck. He immediately moved the fork to cut a much larger slice, about a third of the remaining dessert.

“Now that’d just be rude. Especially now that we’ve compromised.” He took his bite of the cake, and she mostly ignored him as her eyes drifted, her senses concentrating on his scent filling her nose. She relaxed against him, and she felt him turn his head towards her as he swallowed. She moved her eyes to meet his, and they just stared into each other’s gaze for a little bit, before he spoke. 

“I love you, Nesta Archeron.” Her cheeks warmed, but there was no expectation in his eyes, no pressure on her to return the words that she had only said once to him before. She rested her head against him again in silence and watched him eat the rest of the dessert. She no longer cared how long it took him to eat, and, indeed, he went back to savoring each small morsel of food. For once in her life, she was content, and she was safe, and it was her choice to be so.

When he finally put down his fork, she looked back up to him, and drew back a bit in surprise. “Are you...are you crying?” She raised an eyebrow.

“No.” His answer was short and an obvious lie, but he smiled at her, and she pulled herself up with her hands against the sides of his head, wiping at his eyes with her thumbs. She moved her arms around the back of his neck, resting on her knees against his chair, and kissed him. She broke contact at the initial rush, feeling the bond start to weave itself between them, but the look in his eyes brought her back in, kissing him firmly, but tenderly. If they were going to be sleeping together for days, then so be it. But she was going to start this off right; she was going to let him feel what she felt for him, everything she wouldn’t or couldn’t put into words. 

She felt his hands brush against her waist as he pulled her closer to his body and returned her kiss. All throughout, she sensed their bond twisting and turning and becoming so irrevocably tied up that she knew it would never unravel. That she knew she would never lose him, that he would never worry about losing her again. She kissed him stronger, finally granting access to her mouth for his tongue, mirroring it with her own. Her hands drifted into his hair at the nape of his neck, weaving through it, playing with it, as she pushed her body as close as she possibly could to his, until it felt like there was no space between them.

“Nesta.” He breathed out her name in between kisses, and she gazed in his eyes, breathless herself.

“Yeah?” He gave her a look, and she smiled at him, nodding as she kissed him again, as strongly as she could. He stood up from the chair, her pinning her knees to his sides until she could swing her legs around him, and slid the bags and boxes as far as he could down the table. One of the bags slid completely off with a loud crash, and he hesitated in response, breaking their kiss.

“Don’t bother,” she whispered, before she moved down to his neck with her lips. The contact brought him back, and she found herself pulled onto the table. He tugged at the sides of her dress and she broke contact long enough to let him pull it over her head, then she moved her hands to the buttons on his tunic as they resumed making out. As soon as she finished the bottom button, he threw it off, straight backwards onto the chair. She took in his muscles approvingly, as she felt his hands fumbling with the back of her bra. In a few moments, that was gone too, lost somewhere on the floor, far away.

He put his right knee on the table, creaking beneath his testing, and she slid backwards to let him climb up, pulling him down to her lips as soon as he climbed on top himself. His hands moved up to her breasts, and she shuddered at the touch as his lips moved down to her neck, his knee instinctually splitting her legs. He caught his breath, looking at her in one last question, and she smiled, laughing softly.

“Cassian, it’s fine, seriously.” She nibbled on his ear, then continued. “I want you; let me have you.” Her eyes shone with mischief, and he smiled back at her, kissing her on the lips, before sliding her gently further down the table, moving his lips to her breasts as his hands explored further below on her body.

“You know why I like you, Nesta?” Her name rolled off the tip of his tongue as his right hand brushed against her underwear, and she swallowed to keep her voice steady.

“Why’s that?” She shuddered again as his tongue slid against the tip of her breast.

“First – oh gods you’re wet...” She gasped as he lifted her underwear with his hand, sliding a finger inside her. “...you drive me crazy all the time, no matter what. No matter what you’re doing, no matter what’s going on between us.” His thumb grazed against her nerves, and she immediately sucked in air to his delight, a huge grin showing on his face. “You always keep me on my toes, and I’ll always, _always_ want you.”

“Secondly–” A second finger of his entered her, and she gripped his hair in response. “–you love the people you care about so much, you will do anything in the world for them, to take care of them. Even people you’ve barely met, who have treated you well. Even if you don’t show it with your language, your actions scream it.” He raised his head, grinning at her rapid breathing. “Would you like more reasons?”

“Two is f–fine.” His thumb was doing lazy circles around her, and she was finding it hard to think. “Cassian, I swear–”

He laughed. “Alright, alright.” He slid her a little bit further down the table, kissing the entire way down her body until he pulled down her underwear and licked her. “Cass–” She gasped and lost control, closing her eyes to let the pleasure envelop her as he tasted her, curling his fingers in the process. She lost feeling in her toes as her muscles tremored, and he brought her through a first wave of pleasure, working the whole way through as she screamed obscenities, until her body went calm against the table. He slid himself along the table until he could look into her eyes, her stare gentle in reply. He licked her off his fingers, keeping his gaze on her the entire time, then moved down to kiss her. She pulled him closer to her, stealing the kiss first. He moved down to her ear, lightly sucking on it, then whispered.

“Let me take you back to the apartment.” She looked up to him, then nodded. In a brief moment, she found the hard surface of the table replaced with the soft satin of Cassian’s sheets, her head resting on one of his pillows. He was sitting up over her, and she let her eyes glide down to his pants, which were still on. He smiled, moving to take them off, but she stopped him, doing the job herself. As his boxers came down, she bit her lip at his rigid length, and she moved to grab it for herself. He pulled her up before she could, though, bringing her into a kiss. She eyed him.

“There’ll be plenty of time, believe me. I just want my first time with you post-bond to be inside you.” He pulled a bit away, looking into her eyes. “If that’s okay.” She smiled and nodded.

“That’s fine, Cass.” Her use of his nickname brought a smile on his own face, and he kissed her again, laying her back against the bed. He kissed her cheek and breathed in her ear.

“You ready?” She nodded and sucked in her breath as he entered her, though it was less painful than their first time. He started out slow, lightly kissing her neck, and she whined. He grinned and looked at her. “Can I help you?”

“You could go a–” She bit on her lip as he sped up before she could finish the sentence, his hand moving downwards along her body until he reached her bundle of nerves. “Cassian–” She clamped tightly onto his back with her nails as he sucked on her neck. “Oh gods, Cassian.” He brought his face up to hers as she moaned his name, looking into her eyes with such tenderness that she almost lost herself right there. She pulled him into her, kissing him strongly as they broke together, and he held his lips against hers until the last wave of pleasure flooded through her body.

She trembled, and he laid down beside her, pulling her close, still inside her. His hand rested on the back of her head, and she tucked her head into his neck, starting to softly cry. He looked at her in concern, but she shook her head.

“Happy tears,” she spoke softly, and he smiled, kissing her gently. She gripped his back tightly, pulling her head further into his neck. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Cassian. Always know that.” She pulled back from him enough to look into his eyes, which were in a mix of shock and happiness. She wiped at her eyes, feeling the bond between them taut, no longer caring that it existed.

Because this was her choice, her boyfriend, her mate. And she would do everything in her power to ensure they got to keep each other close, got to love each other freely, got a chance at that future she had witnessed.

She closed her eyes as she tucked herself back into his arms and began to prepare for her new life with the male in her arms, a challenge she finally felt ready to take on.


End file.
